A Long Way From Home
by Joker's Ace
Summary: Abandoned by his father, a young boy must learn to fend for himself before embarking on the most dangerous journey of his young life: the trip home. Gathering capable allies along the way he must deal with troubles and enemies of his own making as well as those of his distant, but influential father. Rated M to account for any and all of my whims.
1. Alone

**Alone**

 _From the West and also South,_

 _a shadow stretches over the future._

 _He will ascend the ranks_

 _at speeds ungovernable._

That was the ominous premonition on the fateful night a single child was born under the light of a blood red half moon.

 **[Fast Forward 14 years]**

"Daaaaaaad! Dad, please!" A young boy, alone on the barren coast of an isolated island, wailed into the empty horizon to a long gone, absent father. But, the boy could think of nothing else to do in that moment, continuing to plead, no matter how pointlessly, as tears streamed down his cheeks. "Come back, dad! Don't leave me here! Pleeease!" His strained voice carried far and wide, but none responded.

The boy had been at it for what seemed like hours, and with his throat dry and voice cracking, struggling to even make a sound, he had no choice but to accept that he'd actually been abandoned. Left to his own devices on an abandoned island he didn't even know where, the thin but athletically built youth couldn't help but hear the last words his father spoke before departing ringing in his ears. "I'd honestly hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I meant it when I said I'd make a man out of you even if I had to break you in two to do it. So, everything you're feeling, embrace it. The hatred, betrayal, anger; mold it and use it to become stronger. Then, come for me. Come for me, and release all of that pent up aggression at that time. I'll be awaiting your challenge at home."

Quietly sobbing his final tears, the boy looked around the barren beach. In addition to the lone crab scurrying about and the seashells situated along the pristine beach, a small one man boat had been placed on the white sand alongside a pair of swords and a locked chest (the key to which rested around the boy's neck). His father had left him all the tools he'd need to survive on this island as well as leave when he saw fit. From there, it all depended on his own skill and guile to survive against the many threats that lurked on this strange island and beyond. A rumbling from his stomach pushed the thoughts of his father and his current predicament aside for the moment, and with food the only thing on his mind, the boy ventured into the deepest realms of the island. Moving the brush aside, he could clearly hear the natural cacophony of the island beckoning him further in with each passing second. The feelings coursing through his body, the exhilaration and the confusion, were all so new to him. He'd never been in a situation like this before, but he felt neither fear nor apprehension, instead his mind was flooded only with an overwhelming drive to explore and discover the hidden secrets of the island he'd been left on.

And, the more time he had to calm himself as he gathered edible ingredients, the more he felt he'd have plenty of time to do just that, the thought of predators not once occurring to him. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to fear on this island, a sentiment borne not from naivety regarding his own place in a strength hierarchy, but his upbringing in its entirety. The young child had grown up around physical marvels, monsters if there ever were any. They were all so strong; so freakishly strong. So, he knew full well that there were people whose strength he couldn't imagine in the world. But, it didn't scare him; all those monstrous beings treated him gently and with reverence. They wouldn't harm him. No, the only person who ever caused him any misfortune was... his father. His father would beat him, punish him, and force him through grueling obstacles, always bearing down on him with a snide grin. That grin surely held malice behind it, an overwhelming weight that made it hard to breathe. Yes, that's it; his father was the only evil in this world. Forcing him through those deadly encounters, always so aloof and detached. Now, he'd been abandoned on an island somewhere. For what purpose, he knew not, but it was all his father's fault. It was okay now, though. With his father, the only person or thing that had ever caused him pain or grief in the world, gone, he could live happily. Live an earnest life away from such monsters. He'd just start a new family, meet new friends, that's all there was to it.

He truly thought that, but none of that explained the immense pressure weighing down on him right now. This beast bearing down on him, its huge paw crushing his chest, was intent on eating him. But, why? He'd never done anything wrong; his father was the only evil being, everyone and everything else was eternally peaceful. That foolish delusion washed away like a pebble in the lapping waves pounding the island's coast. His father wasn't the only evil being; he was the reason all those other monsters treated him so nicely. No one, or thing, would dare harm him so long as his father was around. So, why now? Why was he abandoned so far away from home? Left to fend for himself on this ravenous, wild island where nature thrived, what was he to do? He'd already screamed for his dad to no avail; he was alone now. And it seemed this is how he would die; alone and crying, cowering beneath the foot of a superior creature. "You giving up!? I won't let you. You're my son, mine and your mother's. Because of that, you're at the top of the food chain; nothing's above you! Got it? Now, fight back!" His father's oft-repeated words during their numerous training sessions resonated within him, drawing out a sense of pride he barely knew he had. He couldn't let himself be done in so pitifully. With that in mind, he struck out with all his might, fist clenched tightly as it was propelled towards the beast. His punch collided cleanly, digging into taut, flexed muscle, twisting to deepen the impact. Even from his prone position, it was a perfectly thrown punch. But, it had no effect whatsoever. The solid wall his fist had crashed into remained firm. The beast growing angrier at the boy's insolence. Tears clouded the boy's eyes and his vision became hazy as he tried to gaze at the nearing fangs of his assailant. He could only see those sharp teeth as his mind went blank. His voice stifled in his chest, preventing him from crying out like he longed to do. Instead, his soul silently wept as he accepted his fate. Who knew he'd die so soon after his father abandoned him? After just figuring out that it was his father's strength that kept him from harm not caused it, he's to die the moment that cover is removed; what cruel irony is that?

* * *

"Sir," a slightly overweight older man cautiously approached a solitary figure near the front of a large galleon ship, the two pistols and the sword he carried on his person swaying as he came to a stop. "The men wish to know if we should prepare for war with the Mistress."

"Tell me, Thomas. How long have you been a part of my crew?"

"Six years, sir. Of the crew on this ship, the newest member joined two years ago."

"And, do you all really believe I'd fight her?" the figure questioned, his voice soft but threatening. Sensing his crewmember's apprehension, he clarified. "I guess that's not a good question after all. But, don't underestimate that boy's mother. She's quite easily one of the most dangerous foes I've ever faced. That's the reason I'm doing this; so long as she's around to coddle and protect him, that boy will never grow up. This way he'll reach his potential and make a name for himself. Even if he is our son, he'll have to earn everything that is to be his."

"But what about when the Mistress asks questions?"

In an instant, the crew member had a gun pointing between his eyes. Sweat beaded on his brow as he wracked his mind trying to figure out why this was happening. "Give me your sword. Your hidden knife. And your brother's prized pistol." With shaky hands, the portly man complied, laying everything in his captain's outstretched hand, albeit noticeably slower when it came to the pistol. "Now, hand over your brother's ashes."

"S-Sir, I can't do that. His ashes are with his widow on an island in the Grand Line."

"And that's why I did this while she was away," the captain stated while pulling the gun back and returning it to its holster. "Even if she demands it, there'll be no way to hand him over. With how hard it is to find that place, he's trapped until he leaves of his own volition." The man explained while handing everything back. "Besides, she'll never suspect I left him on an island she created as a wildlife reserve." Thomas nodded in understanding. "I'll tell the men there's nothing to worry about." he saluted, before turning to leave his captain. "No, don't; this decision of mine will send a few... _shockwaves_ across the island. Our treaty will be the furthest thing from her mind. . . Tell the men to lower all sails, we have other business to attend to for now." A toothy smile spread his lips as a conniving glint flashed in his eye and his fingers drummed the umbrella he held, pointed tip pressed into the ship's deck.

The ship picked up speed as wind pushed into the sails, the sun illuminating the black kraken embraced white skull design on the dark sails. With the sun beaming down on him, the captain, the boy's father, opened his umbrella and strolled indoors, dress shoes clacking on the wooden planks as salt from the waves peppered his suit. _'I should prepare a small gift for when little Shaad comes for me; it's time this family made some major waves again.'_

* * *

Shaad had been stabbed before, felt the piercing pain race through his body, the warm sensation of his blood escaping their enclosed pathway. He knew what to expect from the beast bearing down on him. But, he didn't expect what happened next. No searing pain raced through his body, no precise puncture on his tensed muscles, and no feeling of a fading life as the blood poured from the wound. In that fateful moment, red didn't dot the blackness inside his eyelids like it usually would, instead, a sudden breeze washed over him, relieving him of the heavy weight bearing down on his chest. He slowly cracked his eyes open to survey the situation, and his heart expectedly skipped a beat at the scene unfolding before him.

In place of one beast, there now stood two. Shaad, though, figured to use the chance to escape as the vicious beasts bared their fangs at one another. Lifting his back off the ground, Shaad cautiously rose to his feet and jetted towards the coast and his supplies as fast as his legs could carry him. It didn't take long for Shaad to get back to the coast, having not once slowed down along the way and almost falling on his face a few times as a result. It took even less time for the young man to gather everything left on the sand in the small boat his father provided. Once he'd collected everything, Shaad pushed the boat completely into the water and readied himself to set off.

Unfortunately, Shaad had no navigation or sailing ability at all, and the one man boat was capsized almost as soon as it left the shallowest portion of the waters. He struggled to flip the boat over while staying afloat, not being a very good swimmer, and holding on to the two swords, but he eventually was successful in his endeavor. That success lasted only a short while, though, as shortly thereafter, having gotten everything back to normal, he felt an unsteady disturbance under the boat. Shaad jumped to his feet, swords in hand, and awaited an attack, but he still wasn't ready for what rose from the water. "Oh, shit." he muttered to himself, face deadpanning and arms going slack as a giant sea snake lifted its head from the water, mouth like a lamprey housing rows upon rows of sharp teeth behind four spiked pincer like fangs. Seaweed hung from its spiky scales like decorative ribbons, showing it to not be native to these waters. Almost as fast as it appeared, it swooped down to swallow Shaad whole, only missing the boy because the waves produced by its sudden emergence tilted the boat backwards. _'Fuck.'_ was the only thing that crossed his mind. Shaad's swords scraped against the creature's solid exterior as it lunged after him again, obliterating the little that was left of the boat and knocking him into the water. He managed to grab hold of the chest and use it to stay afloat through the carnage, but with no foothold he was left defenseless. Thankfully for him, in the most recent splash, he was pushed away along with the chest and the animal apparently had no interest in searching for such measly prey. Shaad kicked his legs in a panicked frenzy and hurriedly escaped to the island. Once back on the island, he rested with his two swords to one side and the chest on the other. Using a piece of rope that drifted back from the single sail rigging on the boat, he tied the chest to his pants and dragged it with him to find a place to stay for the night. He'd think more about this miserable situation in the morning; he couldn't deal with it all any more tonight.

Three years passed with Shaad alone on that island. In that time, his strength had vastly grown, becoming the second strongest being on the island behind only the King Beast, which treated him as a close rival, even before eating the strange, rancid tasting fruit locked within the chest two years into his _stay_ on the island. After eating the swirl patterned, blue cantaloupe looking fruit, he lost his ability to swim, but, for him, that was no great loss. Additionally, his overall combat ability had increased exponentially.

He had previously been trained by multiple well known martial artists and swordsmen in a variety of styles, but he'd always lacked the pedigree and killer instinct to break through to the upper echelon. In order to survive the past three years, those qualities were necessary as well as the ability to anticipate attacks at all times, which he developed and improved over the entirety of his time there. By the time three years had passed, Shaad, with the use of his swords and his new abilities, could hold back and challenge five of the strongest beasts on the island simultaneously, though a single animal, the King Beast, was beyond such reproach. The only thing that was easy for him in that entire time was sleeping, something he became liable to do in the middle of what he'd termed 'Poison Patch', a collection of poisonous spore releasing flowers and parasitic plants that he'd wandered into on more than one occasion. That was always an adventure in itself.

His father's plan in leaving him there to mature and learn seemed to have fully come to fruition. Now, he just needed a method of transportation to leave. Unfortunately, among the many skills he lacked, building ability was chief among them next to navigation skills. Still, though, after many failed attempts, he did come up with an idea that worked. By cutting down the largest tree on the island and carving out a seat, he made a raft he could row using a log he found. And so, after almost three and a half years alone and being abandoned just after his fourteenth birthday, Shaad said his goodbyes to the animal friends he'd made, even inviting the resident King Beast, an eight foot tall Shelled Wolf, to accompany him (though it was too territorial to leave) before setting off on his long journey home.


	2. A Whole New World

**A/N:** single (') indicates thoughts. Please Enjoy!

* * *

 **A Whole New World**

Shaad had been stranded on his 'log boat' for almost a week at open sea. Without any sails or paddles, he was at the complete mercy of the ever changing landscape of waves, moving to and fro with the ebbs and flows of the water, except for the rare occasions when he felt motivated or energized enough to use his sheathed swords for some type of momentum.

So far, his luck had miraculously carried him through two storms and even more bouts of rough water, a streak that couldn't possibly last much longer. But, having just escaped the most recent storm, Shaad reclined back as the cool ocean breeze washed over him, more than content to rest and relax for the time being. After a few minutes, he slipped his fedora- the only intact article of clothing remaining after three years- over his face, the seven inch toothpick jutting between his lips, freshly carved from the boat itself, poking out from beneath the brim of the hat. Shaad simply relished the perfect weather, letting the sun beat down on his exposed chest, darkening his natural tan a shade or two. Before long, the young man was fast asleep, lightly snoring even as a batch of ominous clouds loomed on the horizon.

Even accounting for his complete lack of navigation knowledge, Shaad had no way of keeping track of just how far or which directions he'd bounced around thanks to the weather, making him even more grateful that, after holding on to the boat's sides for dear life for the past two hours as raging winds knocked it around like a leaf instead of the tree trunk that it was, he finally caught a glimpse of land. In one swift action, he'd grabbed hold of both his swords and began paddling in that direction with clear determination. His arms were barely visible as they moved from one side to the other in an effort to reach land.

In his excitement at finally seeing land again, Shaad hadn't bothered to assess how far away he actually was and had actually grown a bit tired from exerting himself so much for so long. But, he refused to let up, the prospect that landfall was one step closer, and not wanting to have used up the already expended energy in vain, pushing him forward every step of the way. After about 45 minutes of nonstop paddling, Shaad's brow was sprinkled in sweat, quite a statement considering his body had been subjected to such diverse temperatures and environments, he no longer had much of a sense of hot or cold where it concerned the external weather. Plus, he rarely sweated to begin with. The fact that he hadn't drunken anything except a bit of rainwater since setting sail making that even more an improbability. But, his efforts had paid off as he'd finally arrived at the island in question. Unfortunately for him, though, he'd drifted to a part of the island where docking was nearly impossible.

Shaad dejectedly looked up at the towering cliff face for the next minute or two, silently arguing with himself over whether to row around to another port or just climb the cliff side. He'd ultimately decided he didn't feel like climbing when he heard a roar from the top of the cliff. Before he could register what it might be, a voice rang out from above.

"Look out below!"

The words had barely made it to his ears before a weight knocked him on his back, rocking the boat to the point it threatened to tip over. "Gi' ah phme!" Shaad's voice was muffled to the point of near incoherency by the toned, supple legs squeezing his face. Recovering from the collision and opening his eyes, Shaad couldn't see the person's face, but could make out that it was a woman by the ample pair of breasts obstructing his view as well as the smoothness pressing against his mouth.

The pressure being applied to the sides of Shaad's head by the woman's taut thighs loosened as she pushed down on Shaad's forehead and lifted herself off of him. "Your timing's wonderful. Now, let's get out of here." The woman either had no understanding of his situation or she simply didn't care, but Shaad was too enraptured by her throaty, silken voice to comprehend the statement, just staring blankly at her voluptuous curves on display in the boy shorts and baby tee she was wearing, framed beautifully by her long, flowing natural pink hair. It wasn't until the teenage boy was knocked upside the head hard enough to leave lumps that he registered her screaming at him. "Hurry up; we have to get out of here!"

The urgency of her statement was punctuated by the hail of bullets that followed shortly after her. Shaad used his quick reflexes to push the woman aside and effortlessly deflected each shot that came close to them. With a quick upswing of both blades during a break in gunfire, he sent dual slashes up the mountainside and caused both the cliffside and the gunmen to fall into the waters below, utilizing quick thinking and immediate action to maneuver his boat away from the falling debris and people.

Feeling safe for the moment, Shaad was about to protest the woman's earlier demand when something large, and separate from the boulders, descended upon them, plummeting into the water near the log boat, causing sizable waves that pushed the boat further away, giving Shaad a good bit of starting momentum. Seeing someone, or something, chasing after them in the water at breathtaking speeds, he took it upon himself to row to safety, which sadly meant leaving the island as fast as possible. Shaad pushed himself to go faster, but his fatigued arms ached from exhaustion and whatever was after them was steadily gaining, moving through the water as if it provided no resistance.

Shaad's eyes went wide when he got a much unwanted close up of their pursuer - a great white shark fishman - taking a large chunk out of the back end of the log boat. While a normal small boat would be sunk by such damage, this unique vessel was mostly fine, moving even faster as a newly motivated Shaad propelled the carved out tree trunk through the water at breathtaking speeds.

But, even with the drastic increase in speed, the attempt to flee was useless as unnatural currents appeared and took hold of the ship. It took everything Shaad could muster just to prevent them from being pulled back into the grasp of their dogged pursuer, but Shaad couldn't see any of that with his eyes tightly shut in fright. He was caught completely off guard when a thick and muscled, webbed hand grabbed hold of his throat, cutting off the air to his lungs and lifting him from the boat which was heavily tilted from the weight being applied by the fishman's foot.

The strange woman pulled out an extendable baton, jabbing it in the fishman's solar plexus, and creating an opening for Shaad to drop his swords and interlock his fingers for a heavy hammer fist to the back of the creature's head, disorienting it for a moment as Shaad kicked him in the chin and backflipped from its grip. Shaad then rammed his shoulder into the chest of the fishman and picked up his swords.

Pressing the bottom of the two hilts together, Shaad expertly spun the blades as if it were a staff. "Heavenly Wind: Blade Twister!" The ensuing gale looked like a smaller, horizontal tornado, crashing into the fishman with a combination of speed and power. But, Shaad wasn't looking to significantly injure or kill the fishman. Through his earlier exchanges, he had a pretty rough idea of what kind of damage the bulky great white could take, and with that taken into consideration, his last attack would only minimally scratch, but it served its purpose in sending both sides flying in opposite directions, a tactic especially effective on the water.

"Bye, dad." Shaad heard a voice happily call out, and his jaw dropped as he realized he'd unwittingly been caught in the middle of someone else's family drama.

Meanwhile, the fishman gingerly rubbed his head in a mix of frustration and tenderness. He was quite sore after bouncing along the water's surface so roughly before slamming into the cliffside back on the island where the chase had originated.

"What do you mean dad? If I'd have known that, I... I wouldn't have..." Shaad frantically stammered over his words. He was in trouble. That fishman looked strong. If he was going to have to fight him, location would be key. Between debating whether to fight, flee, or try and make amends, Shaad's thoughts were scattered about every which way to the point he'd almost forgotten a key detail. "Wait, that was a fishman. Unless there's something I'm missing, you're 100% human." But, just as quickly as the thought popped into his head, he pushed it out in favor of an actual resolution. "Whatever, I'm taking you back. I don't need a great white shark fishman nipping at my heels throughout the Grand Line."

The woman got a conniving look in her eyes at Shaad's mention of the Grand Line and quickly explained, "He's mine and my sister's adoptive dad. He was friends with our parents, though I never knew them. And, don't worry. I'd been trying to get away from that boring island for the past couple of years - the islanders all consider me a troublemaker anyway - but he is too fast in the water for me to get away from on my own; this just means I'm finally free to do what I want. Rest assured, he won't chase after me or you, and neither will those police."

"I'll rest more assured after you're back home... Now, which way was that island."

Shaad's complete lack of navigation skills was fully evident as he looked around absentmindedly trying to determine where they'd come from. The strange woman saw, in that clear empty headedness, a chance she could take advantage of. She could just swim, but why do that when there was a perfectly usable _boat_ right on hand. "Fine," she feigned surrender, "since you insist, I'll lead you back myself. I know this entire area like the back of my hand."

Shaad let out the breath he had unknowingly been holding in before speaking. "Thank you; once that's done I can start my journey. I'm Cornelious Rashaad, by the way, but most people just call me Shaad. What's your name?"

"Raine, Tempest Raine, and if you're going to be traveling through the Grand Line, you'll need a skilled navigator. I can help with that if you want."

"Nope; you're going back. I'm sure I can find another Navigator, or a ship for passage."

Raine didn't look too dejected, though, as she called out orders to Shaad, hitting him in the head with her extendable baton when he initially refused to row in the indicated direction. "I'm the navigator; what I say, you do."

At times it proved difficult to concentrate for Shaad as Raine's voice would periodically wane down to a soft whisper on the wind, always coinciding with her toes leisurely walking up his back. Shaad tried to use the moments when she was snoozing to get some rest himself, but as if she could tell, her toes would walk all the way up his back and culminate in a heel drop to the top of his skull.

'I'm getting tired of this girl.'

'Calm down; we have to get her back home then we're through.'

'O~r, we could just toss her overboard and forget the whole thing.'

'That probably wouldn't be a good idea.'

'You just think she's cute. You're not gonna get a _reward_ for taking her back home, you know.'

Shaad had no further arguments against the voice in his head, abruptly declaring, 'Whatever. We're doing this, end of story.' Effectively ending the one sided argument as he continued to row with Raine's voice chiming in from behind, issuing edicts that he largely ignored.

After a couple more hours of Raine's drill sergeant like commands echoing behind him as she lounged back, sunbathing in a bikini she had on beneath the clothes she originally wore, the duo finally arrived at the island. More accurately, _an_ island, as Shaad could immediately tell that the landscape didn't match the island they'd met at.

"Well, here we are. I'll be going now."

"Wait -" Raine moved with surprising agility, jumping from the log and dashing onto the island before Shaad could turn around and protest, leaving Shaad to pull to the coast. But, looking around, Shaad sighted many much higher quality boats and decided he could use one of those when he left. To that end, Shaad dug his fingers into the edge of the huge tree trunk and casually tossed it into the air. As it came down, he withdrew his two swords and swung both up simultaneously, cutting the tree into a shower of splinters. He then caught the two dozen or so smoothest cut pieces from midair and placed them in the vine wrapped around what was left of the tattered single pant leg before grabbing one more and placing it in his mouth as the rest tumbled around him.

Shaad casually strolled away as some of the people around gawked at what he'd just done. When a loud grumble came from his stomach, he stopped at a random man and asked where the best restaurant was. The man's mouth opened and closed multiple times with nigh a sound before simply pointing Shaad in the direction. Shaad walked until he saw an immaculate building standing proudly amidst the extravagant, high class architecture. Everything about this island was truly top notch. The clean streets, eye catching building signs, and swarms of finely dressed people buzzing to and fro gave it an upbeat yet relaxing vibe.

Shaad had long since deduced that this was a man-made resort island strategically placed in a heavy travel location and located nearby an island with a burgeoning economy for trade and commute purposes based on the distinct lack of a prominent residential area. He was in no hurry to find Raine since he'd made up his mind; he wouldn't be taking her back home after all. His plans were much bigger. But first, the young man entered the fine dining establishment to get something to eat, after all, it had been over a week since he last ate good food, and almost four years since he had something not made over a campfire.

Order after order of lavish and excessive food offerings came out of the kitchen, and as fast as the team of chefs could put out food, Shaad was scarfing it down. After about half an hour, most of the restaurant had gotten so fed up with the boy's ill manners and borderline animalistic eating habits that they simply left, and after an hour, Shaad, sitting before a robust mound of diverse delicacies, was the only customer left in the entire restaurant, though the staff was too busy with just him to even worry about that fact as he shoveled more and more food down his throat, seemingly foregoing chewing. In only three hours, Shaad had eaten every bit of the restaurant's food stores that wasn't frozen and would require hours to thaw, prepare and cook properly. The staff was in various stages of disarray, sprawled across the floor and walls of both the main dining hall as well as the kitchen in states of utter exhaustion.

As Shaad ate what was left before him, an older gentleman approached his table, wringing his hands continuously, and nervously stated, "Hello, I'm the manager of this fine establishment. I hope you enjoyed the full spread that Lè Rui Cour has to offer."

Shaad shook his head affirmatively as he swallowed the last bit of a platter of kebab skewers. "Yeah, that was delicious." he proclaimed with a large smile.

His smile, though, faded with the manager's next words: "Wonderful. Your bill comes to a total of 4,578,630 beli. With automatic gratuity added in, your total rounds up to 6,500,000 beli."

Shaad took one last drink of his beverage before releasing a belch that shook the building's concrete walls and could be heard for multiple blocks outside. Sliding his chair back, he then nonchalantly stood up, grabbed the Giant Chimoa leg, which was more than three times the size of his head, he'd been munching on and turned to leave without a word.

The manager was stunned by his blatant audacity, but a large, muscled man immediately blocked the door as he tried to leave. Shaad only lifted a single eye to gaze at the man over his leg of meat before continuing to walk out the door unimpeded. Before fully exiting, he turned his head to the restaurant's staff and commented, "Yeah, I'm completely energized now. Thanks for the meal." With those words, he exited the doorway and disappeared from view like a phantom, leaving only the muscled guard in a beaten heap on the ground, shivering and looking frightfully scared.

"I guess now I'll go find Raine."


	3. Exposed

**Exposed**

Shaad had been perusing around the active city for going on three hours, and it was starting to get dark, the beautiful moonlight glow blanketing the lovely city as it settled down for the night. He'd yet to find any sign of Raine, but truth be told, he wasn't looking all that hard, having stopped to get new clothes, instead of the jacket he'd stolen earlier to get inside the restaurant, detoured into a book store, a novelty shop, and a market specializing in old school accessories of all kinds from jewelry and shoes to particular suit of armor made from a special metal compound with gold trim and inlay plus sparkling green sea king scales sewn into the shoulder and breast plates along with the shin and forearm guards topped off with seastone sprinkled into the knuckles, elbows, and any other part that could ideally be used offensively. Not to mention the manicure he dropped in to get at a fancy boutique in the center of the shopping district. All in all, Shaad left the shopping district with a couple of books, two new rings- one a plain reinforced, studded steel band and the other a gaudy emblem of a golden lion with diamond eyes and a flawless ruby in its open maw- and a yin yang pendant with an image of a lovely, graceful angel and a fierce demon coming together at the center in addition to a whole new outfit consisting of a long sleeve button up with a light floral pattern that he only buttoned up halfway and a pair of white slacks on top of jade green and white dress shoes with a faded blue armband to hold his toothpicks. And just like with the restaurant bill, Shaad, who had no money to pay for these things, slipped away in the crowds filling the streets, though in each of these cases he did it when no one was paying attention, sliding out of view without even a whisper. He would've taken the battle suit/ suit of armor as well, but it was held behind two panes of super hardened glass with three surveillance snails keeping watch.

After hanging out in the recreational area of town for a little bit longer, Shaad finally began moving out from the island's bustling epicenter to the spa houses and hotels that were nestled into private little enclaves a short ways away in the middle of lush green topiaries, the greenery expertly trimmed and organized. He still hadn't caught a trace of where Raine might be when he once again got sidetracked, this time by a small, nondescript weapons maintenance store hidden away in the trees. The only reason Shaad was aware of it being the unnatural wind flow in that area beyond his eyesight. Just as he was about to head that way, his curiosity started nagging at him as he heard a quieted laughter from over the almost ten foot walls surrounding a luxurious spa a short ways in the opposite direction of the blacksmith shop. Shaad initially ignored it in favor of going to the weapons store where he actually paid to have his swords cleaned and sharpened, although with money stolen from strangers, in addition to an X-shaped cross sheath, asking for black bands to be attached to increase the sheath's use in quick and effortless drawing of the swords for upside down reverse wielding.

After placing that order, Shaad left his blades in the shop owner's care and went back to the open road where he first heard the hidden chuckles of joy. Upon hearing it a second time, his curiosity got the better of him, and he jumped to the top of the wall, crouching in the shadow of an adjacent tree for cover.

From his perch, the first thing Shaad caught sight of was a group of attractive young women relaxing together in the hot spring, chatting and laughing together. Among them was Raine, the life of the party, leading the other young women in a drunken rendition of a song Shaad didn't recognize. Their slurred speech and the many empty and half empty bottles surrounding the spring showed they had all likely had a fair amount.

Once the majority had forgotten the words in their drunken stupor and the lot of them simply sang what they could remember with no guiding rhythm, Raine stood up, laughing and tipsy. Shaad's gaze lingered intensely on her alluring frame as she bent over to grab a strewn towel. Looking back into the water as she poured herself another drink, she screamed out hysterically, "Eel!" The frazzled women screamed in alcohol fueled terror, their collective outburst shattering the silent serenity of the country night, as they scrambled from the hot spring, each collecting their things and moving indoors in complete disarray.

Shaad's attention strayed from Raine briefly as each of the nude women moved past her to the door. When the inn door slammed shut behind her, he slowly took in the sight of Raine's delectable curves on full display before him. He looked her up and down, savoring every sumptuous inch of her from head to toe. After the third time scanning her body, his eyes locked with hers. The playful smirk on her lips and the demented smile of her eyes was proof enough that she was staring directly at him.

As Raine tenderly wrapped herself in the towel, Shaad was reminded of why he'd originally hopped the fence when a dissatisfied groan from the bushes below disrupted his thoughts. Never blinking as Raine swayed seductively towards him, Shaad could tell what was on her mind didn't at all coincide with what her body was saying. Once she was just before the lush greenery hiding the voyeur, Raine flexed her index finger, sexily motioning for Shaad to come to her.

Shaad snatched the toothpick hanging limply from his mouth and threw it into the voyeur's back with enough force to pierce the boy's spine. A scream worked its way up the voyeur's throat, but it was preemptively muffled by Shaad's foot slamming into the back of the delinquent's skull. Shaad left the unconscious peeper lying there with a mouthful of dirt as he stepped into the open and confronted Raine.

"Like what you see?" Raine asked enticingly, flustering Shaad greatly.

Shaad struggled to explain himself, not once coming up with a complete word much less a coherent statement. After a full minute of useless stammering, he leaned down to pick up and show the creep he'd paralayzed only to be met by a hard knee to his face followed by a solid right cross knocking him to the ground next to the unconscious man.

Raine assaulted Shaad mercilessly, not giving him a chance to defend himself as she rained strikes down on him and pummeled him to a blubbering mess. With his face completely disfigured, Raine lifted Shaad's limp body to eye level and gently pecked him on what was presumably his nose before swiftly stripping him of everything but the pendant around his neck. Raine had focused her beating on his face and now took in the sight of his toned, athletic physique, as naked as the day he was born. She looked the unconscious Shaad up and down with a discerning eye, pausing at his semi-engorged manhood with an approving and lascivious simper, before pulling him in close, softly whispering in his ear, "I show you mine, you show me yours.", before launching him over the fence, leaving him to twinkle like a star in the night as he faded into the distance.

* * *

The midday sun, breaking through the curtains and invading the room, caused Raine to stir under the covers, rousing her from her restful slumber. After how much she drank the night before, Raine was trying to peacefully recover from the hangover causing the discomfort in her skull from the comforts of bed. Unfortunately, the sun didn't seem to want to go along with her wishes, and no matter how much she tried, tossing and turning under the sheets, she just couldn't get back to sleep. And with every movement and sound aggravating her pounding headache, she decided to expedite the process and order room service.

"Nakay Resort and Spa front desk." came the answer from the other end of the transponder snail after a handful of rings that only served to annoy Raine further.

"I want to order breakfast." she sounded irritably.

"I'm sorry ma'am but the kitchen is no longer serving breakfast."

"Good," Raine responded, "I'd like gypsy toast, eggs benedict, a cup of fresh squeezed fruit juice, and a coffee, black. Warm honey on the side, please. Have that to Room 24 B in 20 minutes exactly. Thank you."

Raine's voice sounded sweet, but dripping with venom – a thinly veiled threat to say the least. She was in no mood to play games, not the way she was feeling. And, even though the man on the other end couldn't see her face, he clearly felt the breadth of her words, taking time to swallow before responding, "Yes ma'am. Someone will be right up with that."

"Remember; twenty minutes. No more, no less."

"Yes ma'am."

Raine grinned contentedly as the transponder snail receiver was hung up on the other end, hanging up from her end as well before almost falling out of bed. She lazily crossed the room and opened the screen door, letting the gentle breeze caress her skin. Taking a deep breath, she went over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of panties, slipping them on before throwing on a tee shirt and tying her hair up into a ponytail.

After exactly twenty minutes had passed, there was a knock on the door. Raine swung the door open to cease the repetitive irritant, and answered with a sweet smile not reflected in her eyes.

The young boy at the door was clearly flustered by the sight of Raine in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, but he admirably recovered, handing Raine the tray of food with a nervous smile. He stood frozen for a second, prompting Raine to raise an eyebrow. Breaking from his stunned reverie, he reached under his arm and grabbed the paper being held there. "We appreciate you choosing Nakay Resort and Spa, please enjoy this morning's paper with your breakfast."

"Why thank you, handsome. Are the new bounty posters included? I like to stay updated on all manner of current events."

"Yes ma'am; it's in the same state as when the news coo dropped it off this morning."

"The service here is truly wonderful. I'll have to come back again." she commented, planting a light kiss on the boy's cheek. "By the way, where's the usual bellboy?"

"He didn't show up this morning. It's the first time he's ever missed worked."

"Is that so?" Raine absentmindedly pondered as she closed the door behind her. 'I thought that face looked familiar.'

Raine set the food down on a small table by the window. The two dogs tussling in the pristine yard was a beautiful backdrop for her meal. Upon finishing the last bites of the eloquent and light breakfast, she dabbed any crumbs from around her mouth with the napkin, and then picked up the newspaper.

A look of intrigue shone on Raine's face as she read the front page headline, 'Legendary Pirate Slain' accompanied by a picture of the well-known pirate captain wearing his usual black captain's coat and tricorne decorated with his jolly roger. He was surrounded by an eerie green mist which, in combination with his skeletal physique and the slow burn matches sticking down from his red bandana, earned him his epithet, 'The Living Death', but did little to hide the fierce determination and intensity in his eyes or the mad grin nestled beneath the scruff facial hair. His death came as a great shock to the world considering he held a bounty well over 800 million beli and held such immense capability that his strength was respected even by the Yonkou. It was also well documented that he hadn't lost a step despite being 64 years old.

Raine opened the newspaper to the page where the story was continued for greater details. Apparently, he'd been ambushed by a small group of extremely skilled warriors after being separated from the rest of his crew on Vestyll Isle in the New World. The First Mate, Akuma D. Kang, arrived on the scene and slaughtered the already heavily injured assailants. Sadly, each of the attackers was rendered unidentifiable thus it was impossible to figure out who could be behind such a bold move and for what reason. But, one thing was certain, if the World Government were involved in any way it could escalate into an all-out war with the Yonkou, Auron Bay, whom the Living Death Pirates had long been allied with and the two captains were formerly friendly rivals.

It was also reported that Kang would be taking over as Captain of the crew, and he believed the Government to be behind the 'cowardly attack', a claim which numerous high ranking officials vehemently denied. No matter what happened with the Living Death Pirates, this incident was sure to have long running consequences as the balance of the Three Great Powers was fragile to say the least ever since the Red Nights War almost 70 years ago, and the entire world understood just how apt the unpredictable Yonkou's moniker, 'The Volatile Ruination', was and had been ever since his days as 'The Wild Child' with his late brother. Tensions had long been brewing between the Yonkou and Marines since a Schichibukai murdered his brother, and it would only take one small misstep to send the shaky non-aggression they had going straight to Hell. All that was left to do now was wait and see, and hope for the best.

The other stories that Raine found interesting were a report of a big time pirate captain out in North Blue being singlehandedly defeated by a young Warrant Officer, while his Captain was 'indisposed', and a series of attacks that hit much closer to home. Apparently, a couple of towns there in West Blue had been razed to the ground by an unknown perpetrator. Miraculously, no people were killed, though many were seriously injured. The only lead was that they believed the aggressor to be the same person behind the total annihilation of the 173rd branch Marine base which resulted in the death of every Marine present save one, left alive to deliver a message.

Raine couldn't believe what she was reading, and briefly worried that her island might be in danger since that seemed to be along the criminal's path, but her unshakeable confidence in her father's skill pushed such somber thoughts aside. And, with nothing else of note in the newspaper, Raine began skimming through the stack of bounty posters included to see if anything piqued her intrigue.

"Loser. Who cares? About time. Another monster." she rattled off while rifling through the bounty posters. 'Pirate Casanova' Florus? Too much of a pretty boy for my taste, but if this bounty's any indicator then 'Jeweled' Kewl found himself another gem." Raine continued to flip through the remaining posters, commenting more on looks than danger levels or possible impact by the end of it.

Her mouth went agape, hanging open in shock, as she gawked at the final bounty poster featuring a picture of what appeared to be a young man behind a haze of smoke and dust with a smart black fedora shadowing his features. "Well, fuck me long, fuck me hard. I don't believe this."


	4. An Honest Lie

**Honest Lie**

Raine just sat in silence for a few minutes staring in disbelief at the picture on the bounty poster. While the person in the image was too clouded by dust, debris, and blood splatter to clearly identify much aside from the crazed smile the killer wore and the bloodied sword, the uncommon pair of hazel and scarlet heterochromic eyes staring directly back at her immediately let her know just who it was. Her gaze slowly traveled down the paper being held tightly in her grasp as if it would fly away at any moment as she read each word carefully:

 **Wanted**

 **Dead or Alive**

 **"The Little Hellion"**

 **20,000,000**

Still in disbelief, she continued to read the section of the bounty poster listing the person's crimes: 'Suspected of destruction of a Marine base and the slaughter of all those within as well as laying siege to multiple towns'. "I don't believe it. But this sure is convenient; I could use an extra 20 million beli.

* * *

Shaad had been conscious for a few hours by this time, having awoken in the middle of the forests with no understanding of why he was naked. After brushing off the leaves and dirt from his skin, he immediately started an extensive morning workout, a luxury he'd forgone the past few days. Within a couple of hours Shaad had already expended every bit of energy he possessed, constantly pushing himself further as his body cried out for him to stop. Striking out with his palm, Shaad ripped through the tree trunk of a towering tree. Tearing the stump from the earth, roots and all, with a follow up strike, his body froze, chest rising and falling heavily with each deep breath taken, before he ultimately fell, no longer able to hold up his own body, face first into the dirt at the center of a newly created clearing spanning nearly three square acres easily.

It took a few minutes for Shaad to regain enough energy just to get up. Covered in sweat and grime, he lugged his tired body like a sack of rocks until he reached a flowing river, following the rushing stream until he came upon the thunderous waterfall pounding onto the rocks at its base and keeping the river charging forward.

Shaad launched himself onto the largest rock at the waterfall's base, landing softly on one foot. But, while he thought he'd made it, the force of the water was more than he'd anticipated and pushed against his balancing leg, causing his foot to slip from the unsteady and slippery platform. Caught off guard by the sudden fall, Shaad's head slammed against the rock as he fell, dazing him as the heavy flow of the water pushed him down and away from the falls. Unable to swim, he would've doubtlessly drowned had he not reacted quickly enough to bury his fingers into the boulder and pull himself up against the force of the waves and into a seated position on the same boulder as before.

'Ugh, I just got this manicure. Now, it's ruined.'

'Boo hoo, ya pansy.'

'Hey! I should destroy this entire waterfall for making me look like a fool.'

'Yeah, blame water; that's not foolish at all.'

'Just shut up.'

Shaad snarled in frustration at the recent happenings - as well as at losing an argument with himself - as he took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself and empty his mind, letting the water cleanse him of impurities both internally and externally (streaming the dirt through a few uncomfortable crevices as he sat bare assed on the rock.

A mass of terrified screams echoed from nearby, disrupting the serene harmony that had settled over the area. Even muffled, the frightened yells would not be completely drowned out. After listening to the piercing pleas echo for a few seconds, Shaad's eyes shot open. His eyes though were not filled with panic or worry, but annoyance. "How am I supposed to concentrate with all that noise?" he rhetorically questioned to himself, choosing to ignore it until a distinctly female voice screamed out in abject terror. "I really should just ignore it, but it's rude to leave a lady in distress."

"Yeah, and letting the dudes die is completely admirable."

"You know, I'm gonna kill you one day."

"I dare you."

Shaad refocused himself, relenting that he was stuck with the voice in his head (a negative byproduct of being stranded on an island alone for over three years), before rushing off in the direction of the shrill cries at breakneck speed. Moving rapidly through tree trunks, Shaad arrived within seconds, easily spotting a hulking, muscular animal covered in brown fur growling ferociously at a lone woman on the ground trying desperately to create distance but too scared to stand up and run. Shaad landed on a high branch of a nearby tree and, without losing momentum, rocketed himself into the unknown animal, sending it flying with a powerful shoulder ram and forearm shiver combination.

He landed softly on his feet while the large beast careened through a couple of trees. "Are you okay?" he asked the woman, turning around to check on her. Still in shock, she simply gawked and stammered momentarily before everything about the situation - the predatory, monstrous animal and the sudden appearance of a scary strong, completely nude young man - just overwhelmed her and she ran away screaming without looking back, leaving only a couple of rifles and disturbed grass in her wake.

Shaad stood confused at her reaction for a second before ignoring it in favor of finishing off the attacking beast. He followed the trail of destruction only to find that it had somehow disappeared. A quick scan of the area yielded no results and Shaad quickly gave up the venture as something else attracted his attention. "Aah, aren't you adorable?" he fawned upon spotting a small, brown little furball, only slightly larger than his fist, with two big eyes staring directly at him. He slowly approached the cute animal, extending his arm to pet it, when it suddenly grew into the hulking monster from before, a vicious beast over two times the size of a bipedal bear. Towering over Shaad, the beast released a vicious growl, bearing its sharp teeth in raptorial aggression, but Shaad just stared back up at in wonder with stars in his eyes.

"Cool; I want it." he stated, his voice relaying his infatuation with the strange animal, but any further action was stopped as the beast lashed out with a swipe of its large paw, prompting Shaad to jump back to avoid it, the stars no longer in his eyes, replaced by a more dire expression. "Looks like you need to be trained."

"My thoughts exactly. There you are." The voice came from behind Shaad, but when he turned to investigate the source, something hard whacked him over the head, returning the stars to his vision as he fell unconscious. The mysterious creature, meanwhile, hopped off into the distance, once again an innocent, cute faced little animal.

Shaad didn't stay out for long. How could he with the rocks jabbing into him and every uneven plane so easily distinguishable to his aching skull as it jostled along the rough, jagged contours. He attempted to reach out and stop his body's movement, but found his arms tied securely at his sides with his ankles similarly bound together. His voice was a bit groggy when he first spoke. "Why is it I'm unconscious most of the time we're together?"

Raine donned a confused and innocent expression as she stopped dragging the tied up Shaad and naively responded, "I don't know what you're talking about. You must make a lot of bad decisions."

"I'm guessing me being naked is another bad decision? Last I remember, I was fully clothed when you knocked me out last night."

"Don't ask me; I don't know what kind of kink you're into. Maybe the animals stripped you while you were out." she proposed as if she honestly didn't know how he ended up like that.

"Dammit; those were new clothes, too." Shaad grumbled.

"You should thank me." Raine muttered, thinking Shaad couldn't hear her.

"What!?" he exclaimed before he finally focused on a more pressing issue. "Where are you taking me anyway?"

"To get the bounty on your head, of course."

"Huh!? Bounty?"

Raine could hear the genuine confusion in his voice so she stopped again, throwing Shaad against a tree and pinning him down with her heel. "Yeah, it seems your actions finally caught up with you." she stated, flashing the bounty poster to him.

"That's not me. I haven't done anything that would warrant a bounty." Shaad declared while looking Raine directly in the eyes, hoping she'd be able to sense his honesty and sincerity.

His hopes seemed to have been dashed when she just scoffed. "You don't think destroying two towns is worth a bounty just because you happened to not kill any civilians? What about the Marine base that you razed to the ground and all the marines you slaughtered like animals?"

Shaad was genuinely puzzled at the accusations being levied against him as he just stared at Raine, his mind momentarily boggled.

"Wait! I couldn't have done all that. I've been stranded on an uninhabited island with just animals training for the past three years. The island I met you at was the first one I'd been to since ending my training a week earlier."

"That excuse is pathetic; I know about every island in West Blue, and there is no island with a flourishing ecosystem but no civilization. You were probably planning to destroy a city or two on my home island before you were interrupted by running into me and my trouble." Raine countered, not believing a word Shaad said despite the authenticity in his expression.

"No, I swear." Shaad pleaded, trying to figure a way to prove his innocence when a realization donned on him. "My dad. My dad must have had someone keeping an eye on me, and used his connections to get me a bounty. Those crimes sound like something he would do, too."

"So, you're blaming your dad now?"

"He's the one who left me on the island I was telling you about. There are a few people in his crew who could have easily kept him up to date about when I was about to leave and timed the crimes accordingly." Shaad vehemently protested.

"You expect me to believe this is all some conspiracy? With what purpose?" Raine bullied him with questions, pushing his head back with her extendable baton so he couldn't look away.

"To make me stronger. To harden my heart. You don't understand; I'm a failure in my dad's eyes because of how unconcerned I am with power and getting stronger. I just wanted to live a peaceful life, undisturbed by the drama of the family business."

"Well it certainly takes a cold person to slaughter hundreds of people without a care." Raine bluntly commented, tiring of Shaad's lies.

"I'm sure the Marines provided a description of the assailant; that can't match me." Shaad called out, confident this would finally show he didn't do it.

"Fat chance." Raine dashed his hopes with her terse tone. "The only Marine survivor is so traumatized he can only mumble the same phrase over and over."

"And do I look like a person capable of that? That's something my dad does to leave a message. He and his first mate are both capable of it."

"Then how do you explain this?" Raine shoved the bounty poster in his face again, letting him see his unique eyes staring back at him. She smiled triumphantly as Shaad could only stammer unintelligible words, unable to mount any sort of defense to the most recent evidence.

"Fine, turn me in if you must. But, I want you to know, I didn't do any of that and I'm saddened by the atrocious acts my father will so nonchalantly order in pursuit of his goals."

"Then, since you're such a good person, how about you walk yourself the rest of the way; I'm tired of dragging your lazy ass."

"Hey, I would've walked to begin with if you hadn't hit me upside the head; I didn't choose to be dragged along the ground. You should treat prisoners with more care." Despite Shaad having agreed to willingly being turned in to the local Marines, the tone of their exchange had taken a drastic turn. It no longer carried the serious, distrustful air of an interrogation and instead sounded almost like a friendly conversation between bickering old friends, even growing to a level of flirtatiousness at times.

"If this is supposed to be me, what's with 'The Little Hellion'?"

"And what would you prefer?" she questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

"Wild Bull." Shaad answered with a smirk. "Cause when I get going, can't nobody keep up."

Raine tugged on the rope connecting to those binding Shaad, causing him to stop and turn to look at her. She sauntered to him and placed her index finger on the ropes over his chest, lightly tracing her way down as she spoke. "Oh I'm sure I could ride you into submission." she cooed seductively, biting her lower lip as she took a step back and let her gaze drift lower, continuing in a lusty and sultry timbre. "But, I do agree that 'Little' is a vast misnomer."

As Shaad was about to say something, she pushed him away and motioned him forward. They talked casually for a bit with Raine taking the lead in their walk as Shaad lazily lolled along, trying to conserve energy and none too keen on being locked up in a cell.

"Hmph, I don't feel your eyes staring at my ass." Raine remarked, looking back in time with a sudden stop that caused Shaad to almost crash into her. "Either something's weighing on your mind or you had some _'personal time'_ this morning.

Shaad was stunned by her thinly veiled innuendo, a wide eyed and flabbergasted expression on his face as he looked at Raine's hand floating mere centimeters from his family jewels. Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Shaad stared blankly, his eyes shifting from her lingering palm to her toying smirk and back, only releasing the breath he'd inadvertently held in when she clicked her heels and resumed walking.

"Nope, still carrying all that tension. You need to relax; maybe a big, burly guy 'll help you with that in prison."

"Don't even joke about that!" Shaad nearly shouted. "Being thrown in jail isn't some carefree vacation."

Raine just laughed him off, waving her hand dismissively before motioning him to be quiet. "Shut up; we're coming on the Marine base. If for any reason I don't get my money you can say goodbye to your little friends and any hope of a future." She warned in a tone completely unmatched by her threatening words.

Having heard similar statements throughout his life, often times from his own father, Shaad remained unperturbed, quietly remarking. "Fine, you'll get your money, but I need you to get something for me, too."

"Clothes?" Raine joked.

"That would be nice, but I had something else in mind."

* * *

 **A/N:** The second installment of my first story, _Crimson Pirates,_ will premiere next week, and will be updated every other week. Thanks for reading; enjoy the weekend.


	5. A Day of Firsts

**A Day of Firsts**

Shaad stayed true to his word, and did not contest being arrested with much veracity, allowing himself to be roughly handled by the overconfident, under worked marines of the base. Neither did he flinch when they took advantage of him being handcuffed to land a few cheap shots while escorting him through processing and to a cell three stories below ground. All the pain and humiliation he suffered paid off though, at least for Raine, as the marines paid her the 20 million beli for turning in 'The Little Hellion' after a brief but heated dispute over Shaad's actual identity as such while Shaad himself only acquired a tacky, ill-fitting prison jumpsuit to cover his nakedness.

After being thrown into his cell, Shaad's eyes gradually adjusted to the dark environment, enabling him to see vague outlines up close with the little light that seeped in. "I wish they'd taken these cuffs off; for some reason I feel drained." He spoke to no one in particular, though he was sure he heard at least one other person in the cell next to his. A thick concrete wall separating them, his voice still carried through the bars and along the smooth, barren stone walls.

"With these cuffs on, I don't think I'm getting out of here," Shaad stated absently. "Looks like it's up to you," he continued to the person on the other side of the dividing wall, losing no confidence or interest despite not getting an answer. "So, what are you in for?" Shaad asked the person whom had still yet to confirm if there even was anyone else down there. Shaad waited several seconds for an answer that never came before continuing, "Yeah, me too. Though, mine got me a 20 million beli bounty. I'm Rashaad by the way. What's your name?"

The conversation continued in a similar one sided manner with Shaad talking to the walls and only the sound of crickets coming as a reply. Shaad didn't mind, though. For one, he was used to talking to himself. Also, during his time stranded he came to trust his peripheral vision and his ears as much as any reality to keep him aware of his surroundings, and he was sure he glimpsed a figure in the corner of the adjacent cell when they escorted him down there. But, even more than that, he trusted the air he felt coming from the cell to be the real deal, not the stale, rotten air that lolled about or that of some weakling content to die in a place like that. With those instincts distracting his thoughts, Shaad decided to go ahead and relax a bit. "Alright then, I'll leave it to you." Before he knew it, Shaad had dozed off, slumped against the rough, rocky walls. He stirred too upon feeling a rat nudging his leg, looking to crawl up the prison pants he was wearing. He shooed the rodent away before returning to pestering the character he presumed to be in the next cell over. "So, thought about how we're gonna get out of here?" The silence had become expected, and Shaad continued on undeterred. At the very least, this exercise kept him occupied until he did figure out a way to escape. Shaad finally heard something aside from the echo of his own voice as footsteps resonated from the stairway followed by a quiet shuffling on the opposite side of the wall he was reclined against.

The sound of footsteps became the only sound as the guard arrived to the bottom of the stairs, stepping through the door and onto the cobbled floors of the prison. "I thought I heard something," he thought out loud. "Scum should shut it and accept your fate now."

His voice was serious and demanding, but Shaad responded nonetheless. "Sorry, sir, I saw a rat. You know, rats and the dark are a scary combination." The guard was initially angered by Shaad's perceived insolence, but that took a backseat as he looked into the cell adjacent to Shaad's.

"Where are you? There's no way you could've escaped without being seen by the surveillance snails." The guard spoke audaciously despite the nervous shaking of his weapon and not seeing the prisoner.

The next thing Shaad heard was a pained oomph followed by the jostling of keys before the cell door was closed again. Looking to his right, he spotted a hauntingly lanky figure dangling the ring of keys mockingly from one of his bony fingers. "Why?" he asked simply, his voice as distant and mysterious as his eyes.

"Awe, don't be like that. Me and you together, we'll be like Batman and Robin or the Lone Ranger and Tonto."

"What?" the man replied, donning a confused expression at Shaad's statement. But he quickly disregarded it as gibberish, tossing the keys through the bars before walking off. "Name's Jin Sun."

"Thanks; I'm sure I'll be seeing ya, Jin." Shaad picked up the keys and ran through them until he finally got the one that opened his cuffs, massaging his wrists a moment, relishing the unfettered feeling he got, before moving on to the cell door.

Once that was open as well, Shaad made a surprising move and lay down on the sorry excuse for a mattress in the cell, asleep within moments, the keys still in his grasp, though he was free of any constraints.

After sleeping for a few hours, Shaad awoke refreshed, relieved of any lingering weakness he may have felt. With the door still unlocked, he left his cell to check the situation outside and take his leave. There was nothing but silence as he moved through the line of cells leading to the stairway. 'Do they have another area for petty criminals or something?' Shaad wondered, looking around briefly now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting. 'This place is desolate.'

Upon ascending the stairway, Shaad followed the line of sprawled out guards, just now regaining consciousness, strewn about the hallways to find his way out. 'Either that Jin fellow did a number to this base or they're really slacking on the job around here.' he thought to himself as he came to the front door, stopping as he heard a man's voice from the other side.

"Hey, James, if you're sleeping in there, our new CO will really be on your ass." he spoke while opening the door. Shaad and the stranger stood face to face, blinking the surprise away, before the man stammered a reaction. "Wha- Who a-!"

Shaad punched him in the face and threw him inside with the others before he could raise his voice and bring attention to the area, but he didn't notice one of the waking marines press a button behind him until he heard the base's alarms blaring all around.

"Damn it," he muttered, hurrying around the corner and hopping over a wall. He landed in a bush just as two marines ran by and peeked out to make sure the coast was clear before scurrying for cover behind a tree. Wary of his surroundings, Shaad proceeded through the brush trying to get to the base's main office which was near the entrance.

It was a slower progression than the young man would have liked, but necessary to prevent further commotion. The only saving grace was that there forces near the front gate had thinned considerably thanks to the blaring siren. But as he came to the building he was looking for, he was nearly spotted by a lean, sloppily dressed marine. When the hulking figure alongside the first started towards him, Shaad crept back into thicker bushes with more shade. He lurked there as the first marine came over to assist in the search.

Knocking out the two men from cover, Shaad slipped into the main building without being seen. He had to quickly dispatch the five Ensigns gathered there, but that posed little problem for the escaped prisoner. After ransacking the front room, Shaad found what he was looking for sitting neatly in a cubby behind the front desk: a crisply folded pair of clothes and his swords, sharpened and in their new sheaths, leaning against the cubbies. After changing into the loose, white long sleeved shirt - which had a deep V-neck exposing the top of his chiseled chest and sparse chest hair as well as ruffled cuffs - and black pants, slipping his feet into a pair of wooden sandals, and strapping the swords to his back, Shaad let himself relax a bit, exhaling a loud sigh as he walked back to the front door, only to have it thrown in his face.

Removing the door from atop him, he caught sight of what he thought to be the most beautiful set of ruby red, almond eyes glaring back at him. Withdrawing his focus, he saw that the alluring pair of eyes belonged to a tall and slim young woman with fiery, shoulder length red hair. She wore a simple yet conservative, deep maroon suit that showed off her womanly figure, and although she lacked the overt sexuality that Raine exuded through her almost exaggerated curves and teasing manner, the dauntless female possessed a demure attractiveness about her. Shaad, too lost in his own mind, didn't even seem to notice the katana she had pointed at him. "You're cute," he innocently commented.

"My name is Miko Kusanagi, the Captain of this base," the woman announced commandingly. "You must be the one who's run amok in this base; I will not be looked down on by the likes of you."

Shaad, finally realizing the severity of the situation as Miko tightened her grip on the handle of her sword, jumped to his feet and attempted to talk his way out. "Ohh. . . No, you got it wrong. I ain't attacked anybody (except for the two outside... and maybe one more). I ain't done nothing," he attempted to placate the marine.

Fed up with what she saw as his demeaning behavior and with her frustrations reaching an apex, Miko rushed Shaad while he still held his hands out trying to calm her. But, Shaad reacted fast enough to quickly draw both swords and block the attack just in time to prevent having his stomach sliced open. The attack was still strong and sudden enough to push Shaad back and knock him through the wooden front desk.

Shooting out from the resulting wood pile, Shaad struck at Miko from below, knocking her back enough to allow him to switch to a traditional grip on his swords. **"Fractured Memories!"** he yelled, swinging the blades like a giant pair of scissors diagonally across Miko's body. The Marine Captain showed her skill, expertly deflecting both katana while simultaneously dodging backwards, though the force of the attack cut through the building's front wall.

Shaad was intent on not letting the swordswoman breath, jumping and attacking from above with a heavy swing. Using her block, he cartwheeled in the air, landing just in front of the door, before jumping outside to give himself more room.

"I'm not letting you get away," Miko declared heatedly as she pursued Shaad outside.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I got some time to spare; let's have fun." he replied with a smile, readying himself for a fight.

They clashed with each other, and Shaad quickly looked to take the upper hand, pushing her back with a flurry of heavy swings. He attacked from every angle, but could not break her defense. Putting his momentum behind a wild strike from the left, he attempted to spin around to her back. Miko caught the brief opening and swung for his back.

Shaad felt the cold steel slice his flesh, cutting through like a knife through butter, and he flipped the sword in his right hand to momentarily stop the sword, providing him enough time to create separation. "This was a new shirt," Shaad complained, launching forward with impressive speed. With an upward swing, the top two buttons of her top were sliced apart, exposing her impressive cleavage, but doing no actual damage. "Sorry; I got a bit ahead of myself."

Miko shifted the cut flaps of her top before charging Shaad, immediately putting him on his heels. He used his two blades to lock her in a power struggle, but Miko finagled her katana and aimed a thrust at Shaad's throat that forced him off. He returned the favor with a charge of his own which was quickly snuffed out.

Shaad took a moment to compose himself, before going in for another shot. **"Crossroads Kill,"** he called, simultaneously bringing one sword down and the other across horizontally at a 90° angle from the first. Miko pivoted backwards and caught the blades at their intersection, using the chance to swing Shaad's swords and arms around and up, creating an opening to bring her own blade down for a finishing strike. Shaad looked to be finished, but somehow escaped the blade's range, though the pendant chain he wore was cut. As he watched the pendant fall to the ground, Miko attacked again with a powerful rising angled thrust. Shaad barely reacted in time, crossing his swords to stop the strike, but still being pushed back.

Miko would not be denied, though, lashing out with a furious flurry that Shaad struggled to keep up with. He attempted to move in to disrupt the flow of her attacks but was struck in the shoulder by her katana's flower guard and hilt before being knocked aside by a decapitation blow that he managed to block. Shaad was knocked back, but not without landing a strike of his own, slicing the heel of her shoe as he blocked her blade.

Miko was ready to continue, but Shaad was kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily with a hand held up for pause. "You got me. I can't compete with your swordsmanship," he panted out, never loosening his grip on his two swords.

"You admit defeat, then?"

"Na, no such thing," he responded calmly as he stood up. "I was just sayin' I'm a have to do better; my skills have gotten sloppy these last three years."

Miko didn't understand the meaning of his words, but had no time to ponder it as he charged her in a crouched position, holding his swords with a reverse grip. **"Cross Cleaver,"** he declared, moving even faster than Miko could react. Bringing both arms around, he aimed to slice her legs, but she jumped over the attack. Shaad immediately followed after, jumping even higher and faster to drive his knee into her abdomen. Flipping his grip on the swords, he reversed his swings and trapped her throat between the sharpened blades without piercing the skin before driving her to the ground, burying his knee beneath her ribs.

As all of the air in her lungs was suddenly forced out, her eyes popped open, almost bugging from her skull, and watched as the tips of both Shaad's blades came down on her.

 **"Death's Bite,** " he yelled, pushing his blades deep into the ground on either side of Miko's head. Miko was taken aback as Shaad looked into her eyes with a serious expression. "You've taught me quite a bit," he stated stiffly, kicking her sword away and turning his back to her, walking over to his pendant. Once he'd picked the object up, he spoke again, more pleasantly this time. "I'm sorry we must part under such circumstances. Hopefully, if we meet again, it will be under more pleasant conditions." As soon as those words left his mouth, he flashed a smile her way and was off out the front gate, leaving Miko stunned on the ground still sucking in air by the mouthful.

"Well, that took longer than intended," Shaad lamented. "I'll have to hurry."

Within minutes, he was at the coast, looking across the docks. He scanned the area for a bit, his eyes stopping on Raine. Looking at the boat she was standing in front of, he saw a twin sailed schooner with what looked to be about six cannons on either side. He then approached the curvaceous woman with a smile and a wave.

"So, you ready to go, navigator?"


	6. The Next Step

**The Next Step:**

 **Into the Noose?**

"Tell me again why they're here," Shaad tiredly asked of Raine, indicating the dozen men working the ship.

"Could you man this ship by yourself," she questioned in return, not bothering to look at Shaad from behind her sunglasses.

"No, but the two of us together could probably manage." Raine pulled down her shades and looked at him as if he'd said the dumbest thing ever. "No; you're right. What was I thinking?" Shaad's voice dripped in exhaustion and sarcasm.

Raine ignored his tone, turning over where she lay and telling Shaad, "Put some lotion on my back."

"Yes, your Highness," he sardonically replied, doing as she told him nonetheless before he resumed speaking. "I'm just saying; they're all looking at me like they wanna kill me. . . and you with something else entirely."

"Oh, stop worrying; it's not a good look. They're harmless, just mad I beat up their captain and claimed the ship for myself." she retorted. "Besides, you're the one who told me to chart a course for the most dangerous island in the West Blue. You realize the people there will do more than just look like they want to kill you?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slightly flustered when she undid her bikini top and let it hang loosely on her shoulders, beckoning him to move his hands up and massage the lotion into her shoulder blades and the sides of her breasts.

Sensing his uneasiness, Raine poked her ass up just a bit, teasing Shaad as her firm cheeks poked out from beneath the skimpy material. "Don't forget my legs," she crooned in that sultry voice of hers. Shaad rubbed the liquid into her soft, supple calves, working his way to her thick, juicy thighs, resisting the overwhelming urge to move his hands further up and take hold of the treasures calling to him. As if sensing his hesitancy and reluctance, Raine stifled a chuckle when Shaad slowly drew his hands back, breaking the beguiling connection before he immediately bounded into the crow's nest almost in a single leap.

The air about the ship was tense to say the least for Shaad, surrounded by a crew that wanted him dead on the one hand and an overly flirtatious succubus that loved to tease him on the other. Raine remained relatively reserved and Shaad was used to sleeping with one eye open, but after about two weeks of stirring in his half-sleep state when one of the crew would come by with plans to slit his throat or stab him in his sleep, he grew tired of giving the potential perpetrators an out and decided to make an example. It also helped that he'd grown weary of the meager rations on the ship; he wanted something new.

'Seafood would be nice,' he thought before a pair of footsteps broke him from his reverie. With the men's cabin out of the question, as was rooming with Raine, Shaad had taken advantage of the great weather and been sleeping in a hammock out on deck. It left him exposed, but allowed him acute awareness of all comings and goings. This time, it was too early for a night watch shift change, and the person - a man judging by the weight and sound of the steps - was trying to be as quiet as possible. Shaad cracked an eye open and saw the man in the crow's nest, thinking Shaad was sleeping and unaware, signal it safe to continue.

Shaad lay in wait as the footsteps became closer and less frequent. He could practically hear the man's heartbeat and had to hold fast to prevent cracking a smirk. After a short while, Shaad felt the man's shallow breathing beside him. As naturally as he could, Shaad rolled his head back, exposing his neck and chest for the man to target, but did nothing to stop the impending attack. Time seemed to slow, each second ticking at an agonizing pace as he waited for the critical moment.

When the man plunged his dagger for Shaad's throat, there was no resistance. The blade ripped past its victim, viciously tearing fibers while its wielder attempted to pull it back. The man was in a panic, his knife stuck and refusing to yield while a pair of fierce heterochromic eyes stared at him with a predatory amusement.

"You look like you're about to piss yourself." Shaad commented snidely, his fingers digging in to the flesh of the man's forearm as he shot upright in the hammock. He then stood up and let the rope threads of the hammock untangle themselves from around the blade, allowing the man to pull back the dagger but not escape Shaad's grip.

Shaad wrenched the man's wrist, a twisted grin on his face, and caught the knife as it dropped from the assailant's grasp before shoving the man against the main mast, crushing the man's throat with his forearm.

The man struggled to breathe, flailing as he attempted to remove Shaad's forearm, while the individual on watch looked on in fear. Shaad increased the pressure and thrust the dagger deep into the man's shoulder, twisting until the blade ran into the wood behind him, crushing the bone and shredding muscle in the process.

Shaad muffled the pained cries with his hand before bashing in the arm opposite the shoulder with his knee. He rammed the pinned limb with such force that it snapped from the shoulder down, shattering the joint and sending new levels of pain surging through the poor man's entire body, such that he nearly bit the inside of Shaad's palm.

Shaad released the beaten man and knocked him unconscious with an elbow across the jaw. He then rapidly ascended the main mast, coming face to face with the man tasked with keeping watch. "That was a message. I'll take over watch for the night, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the others." Shaad leaned in closer for emphasis and spoke the last sentence slowly. "I wanna see surprise on their faces."

Shaad was awoken by numerous gasps coming from below. The crew was shocked by the sight of one of their own pinned pathetically to the main mast, his entire weight being held up by the dagger through his shoulder while a gag in his mouth kept him quiet. His legs had long since given up trying to hold his weight, and the wound in his shoulder had gone numb to the constant digging pain long ago as gravity pulled against him, digging the blade incrementally deeper into the flesh and adding more of the warm liquid to that which had already coagulated around the wound. Shaad jumped down before any of them got the brilliant idea to remove the sorry looking fellow from the post, a foreboding tone to his expression as he acknowledged them.

"Bet that woke ya'll up, huh? This man here tried to kill me," Shaad explained, though the revelation drew hardly any surprise from the frightened and unnerved crewmen. "Now, I let him off easy because I realize I hadn't given any of you a warning. . . This. . . is that warning. . . Any one of you make an attempt on my life after this. . . Well, I'm sure you can imagine." He then looked at them with an added bit of challenge and seriousness, his eyes relaying that he knew many of them had already made previous such attempts on his life. "Now that that's clear, get to work. The sooner we reach Blackwood, the happier we'll all be."

As the men scurried off to perform their various duties, Raine stood leaning against the door frame of the captain's cabin above them. Still dressed in a sheer pink nighty that left extremely little to the imagination, she strolled seductively down the stairway. Shaad found it difficult to break away from the captivating sight until she was right upon him, looking up and into his wide eyes. "Ooh, I didn't think you actually had it in you. . . Glad to see I was wrong. But, what can you actually do that's so much worse than that?"

With her scent filling his nostrils and her index finger lazily drawing circles on his chest, it took Shaad a moment to find his voice. "I don't know," he answered honestly, quietly enough that the busy crew couldn't hear him. "My dad always taught me, 'man's worst enemy is his own mind.' Took me a while to get that."

Raine just smirked at his answer, taking a step back and raising her voice as she ascended back up the stairs. "Now, clean up that blood. I don't want it leaking into the wood of my ship."

Shaad grumbled to himself about her calling it her ship, but he wasn't about to disobey the command. "Roman, clean up this blood," he called to one of the other men. Meanwhile, he pulled the dagger from the shoulder of his _example_ , spreading copious amounts of new blood across the deck. Throwing the man roughly to the floor, Shaad bound the hands and feet before tying a rope around the bleeding man's waist, dragging him along and throwing him over the rail as he himself took a seat and began fishing with the man as his _barely_ 'live bait'.

The man screamed for mercy from behind the gag, noise bubbling to the surface and shaking the water. Shaad pulled him up and removed the gag, making his pleas audible for all to hear, slapping a thick piece of tape over his mouth in its place. "Ssh; you're scaring the fish," Shaad whispered before throwing him back into the water. While the thick tape all but silenced the screams, it did nothing to stop the man's floundering, but Shaad had no such problem with that. "Yeah; make it look real. Fish love live bait, especially the big ones."

The rest of the crew couldn't believe what Shaad was doing, but were far too frightened to speak up. The next few hours took some patience on Shaad's behalf. He ate breakfast from that spot, holding his first prolonged conversation with his coquettish female companion with only minimal sexual innuendo. He'd long since figured out there was more to the woman than she let on, but he got a brief glimpse up close of the hidden persona during their talk, compelling him even further to truly get to know this mysterious, overly forward, and frighteningly sexy woman.

It was shortly before lunchtime when he finally felt something, other than a few small fish nibbling at his bait, on the line. Specks of disorienting and blinding luminescent light sparkled around the bound man before heading directly toward him. Luckily for Shaad, the man was in good physical condition due to the labor required to work a ship. This meant his muscles were tough and durable, making them harder to rip apart for the aquatic predator after him. Being pulled in opposite directions in such a way, though, made the man want to scream out. Shaad had kept him on the edge of life and death in order to keep the 'live bait' moving, and he'd lost the will to fight hours ago, but the searing pain kicked in his survival instincts. He squirmed and floundered in resistance, but that only prompted the animal to chomp down harder, snapping bone with its massive jaws.

With the rope being pulled further in the water, Shaad could tell he was losing his catch and his bait. Pinning the reel to the deck with his foot, Shaad grabbed some steel wire the ship had available and tied it around the hilt of his black bladed sword. He locked his sights on to where the blood flooding into the water was spawning from and launched his sword for the animal.

Blood poured even more heavily into the sea as the blade impaled its target, wounding it critically without killing it. Now that he had a firm reel and solid stake, reeling in the animal was less a struggle though the creature continued to resist with its remaining energies.

'Why didn't I think of this before?' Shaad thought as he pulled the animal out of the water.

'Cause you're stupid.' the voice in his head retorted derisively.

'Whatever; I got it. That's what matters.' he settled, throwing the animal to the deck before pulling his sword from the beast to deliver the killing blow. "A horned shark; pretty good catch. Can you have it ready by dinner?" Shaad questioned the ship's chef, a portly middle aged man. The chef nodded his head with such nervous vigor that his fat belly jiggled slightly, making Shaad smile. "Good. But, I feel like I'm forgetting something."

"Horned sharks are group hunters. They're totally berserk around blood. That's why they produce that sparkling light - to disorient prey and identify themselves to the rest of their school," one of the more experienced of the crew called out in a panic, the size of a school varied for these predatory beasts and a large enough grouping could cause heaps of trouble for a ship their size.

"That's right," Shaad exclaimed happily, hopping onto the railing in anticipation. Surely enough, he saw a large collection of lights swarming the area. It wasn't clear through the water, but it looked to be a school of five angrily searching out food. "Woah, big fella," the young swordsman called when one of the sharks rammed the ship's hull, almost knocking him into the water.

Shaad jumped back to the deck and tied a bit of steel wire around his second sword before retaking his position on the rail. "We eating good tonight," he cheered as he threw the swords at two sharks. It was an easy enough mark since all of the sharks were clumped together, fighting over the remains of the now dead crewmate, and the blades speared clean through two of the sharks with the black blade ripping into a third, seriously wounding that one.

Shaad focused his energy, wrapping the steel wire around his arms, and pulled. The steel wire dug into his arms, threatening to cause critical lacerations, but with one more call to his stored energy, both sharks came practically flying out of the water, landing with a thud amidst the startled crew and cracking the ship's floorboards. Afterwards, he turned back to the water only to find that the two unharmed sharks had fled the hectic scene, leaving their wounded compatriot trailing slowly behind them. With an underhand throw, Shaad pierced the animal through the skull and dragged its carcass aboard the ship to make a total of four.

"Go wild tonight, chef; we got plenty," Shaad proclaimed with a smile.

"I can't cook that last one."

"And, we won't eat any of them."

Shaad looked puzzled. "You first," he said looking to the ship hands. "I don't much care either way, but it's disrespectful to turn down food your host offers."

"Those beasts devoured our partner. We want no part in eating something that ate a human."

Shaad nodded his head, but responded with brutal honesty. "Over the past three years, I've had to eat animals that ate my friends. It's the natural cycle, and it's hardly rare. . . or fair. Not to mention, how big that first one is, your friend's probably one of the cleaner things he consumed." Shaad let his words marinate while he turned his attention to the chef. "And what's the problem with the last one?"

"You broke one of the artificial jewels. It's highly toxic and the chemicals have spread throughout the animal by now."

Shaad sighed in faint disappointment, and Raine, who had been standing by watching from a distance, handed out orders. "That's fine. You lot, carry the three healthy ones to the kitchen. Chef, don't you dare cook its stomach; I also have no desire to eat predigested human. Also, save the sharks' horns and jewels. They may not make good food, but there's a reason horned sharks are considered 'jewels of the sea'. When you're done, give the same treatment to the other one. It'll be in the hold." Raine's voice was serious and calculating, its typical provocativeness replaced with a harsh and threatening quality.

Shaad kept a satisfied smirk as the men rushed to follow Raine's directives even as she moved next to him, not seeing her extend her baton in the process. With a sharp swing, his head was driven into the deck, creating an indent and wiping the smile from his face. "And, I already told you not to damage my ship." She then crouched down and gently grabbed Shaad's head, stroking his cheek and wiping the blood from his lip with alternating strokes. Her voice was sweet as sugar as she spoke again. "Now do yourself a favor and move that last shark to the hold. In addition to the money for the clothes, you now owe me for one broken jewel." Raine stood up, wiping any dust from her bare legs and straightening her shirt as she looked at Shaad lift himself from the deck, an annoyed expression on his face. "And clean up all this. You do it this time; those guys have no sense of tidiness."

 **[Days Later]**

A bleak outline appeared on the horizon. Whatever it was seemed to be covered by a centralized haze, but as they got closer it was clear to the crew that it was an island. Even as they all cheered, happy to be getting off the ship and returning to land, they each noted that the island's skyline was underwhelming to say the least. But what stood out most was the jagged curvature of the island's coast line. The mountains, cliffs, and ridges surrounding the island were so hauntingly marked and arranged that the foreboding image looked strikingly similar to a noose around the island as a whole.

Everyone got a clear look at just how dilapidated and rundown the city appeared as they brought the ship into port. The unwelcoming faces, beat up buildings, and flea bitten environment almost made the crew opt to stay on the ship. Shaad was the first one off the ship, taking a deep breath of the foul, stale air as Raine walked down behind him, arms raised in embrace and introduction. 'This should work fine.' he thought.

"Everyone. . . welcome to Scoundrels' Noose!"


	7. Questions

**Questions**

Shaad and Raine disembarked with the crew following behind initially, walking through the docks and examining the ramshackle merchant stalls selling everything from clearly stolen goods with blood splotches still on them to poorly made knock offs and even a couple near the interior with a few quality offerings. Any mystique was lost on Raine as she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the myriad of rancid smells invading her senses all at once. "This place is more of a shit hole than I imagined; the smell of piss and alcohol is everywhere." she complained. "And, all I see are gutter rats and whores."

"Then you should fit in fine," one of the crew, a muscly, bearded man, muttered irritably to himself, his voice low so as to not be heard by the subject of his derision who was embracing Shaad tightly as they walked.

Shaad heard the utterance, but continued on without a hitch hoping Raine had not. Those hopes were nearly shot when he felt the weight of her arm lift from around his shoulders, but he quickly hooked his own arm around her waist in an attempt to reel her in by returning the flirtatious attentions being given so as to keep her from causing a scene.

But, despite how tightly he held her, she wriggled out from him. Shaad released a sigh before slowly turning his attentions around. By the time his eyes got around, the buff individual who made the comment was already beaten and disfigured on the ground, folded like a pretzel with arms and legs all bent to an unnatural degree.

Bystanders either laughed or cheered at the unfortunate and pained man's situation, and the rest of the crew attempted to untangle the man after Raine nudged him along the street with her heel before continuing deeper into the city with Shaad.

While a good deal of the people ignored the pair walking down the streets, they nonetheless received no shortage of prying eyes from shady looking individuals and groups, each working on their own nefarious schemes of robbery, rape, murder, or some concoction of the three plus others. Raine, used to having eyes on her - for better or worse - paid it no mind, but Shaad's senses were in overdrive. Having grown up observing the interactions of the vilest mankind had to offer courtesy of his father's business dealings, none of the people they'd passed or met so far seemed particularly threatening, but the weight of his father's absence truly set in for the first time as he was subject to a completely new emotion from others: outright malice. He was more used to the hidden contempt a rival of his father's might emote after being screwed in a deal; no one who had looked at him with any semblance of something worse rarely lasted long enough to even regret their lack of restraint.

Still, though, Shaad had been trained well by both his father and mother in the art of striking an image, and so he walked, without a hint of trepidation or fear, with his head held high at a confident, even pace letting everyone know that his attitude wasn't just for show and neither were the swords on his back.

"How can we get to what you all call the best hotel on this island?" Raine asked the bartender, a heavily tattooed man with a potbelly and more hair coming from his ears than his head, of a rather rundown bar that she'd led them into. The bar was in various stages of disrepair and filled to the brim with gruff, unsavory individuals who shot them a few threatening and wary stares along the way.

"I only talk to customers," the large man replied in a gruff voice.

Shaad's head sunk into his hand as he let out another sigh, but lucky for him, Raine was apparently in the mood for a drink anyway. "Alright then; two drinks. And, both the alcohol and the information better be good."

"Actually, I don't drink." Shaad interjected somewhat meekly.

Raine looked at him like that was the most irrelevant comment, replying, "They're both for me. You better be able to speak for yourself or we're through; I ain't gon do it for you." Shaad turned his head in slight embarrassment as the bartender plopped the two large mugs of alcohol down with an audible scoff.

"What you're looking for is the tallest building in the city; you probably saw it when you docked. That building's literally at the epicenter of this entire city. "

"Wow; someone lacks imagination," Raine commented as she got up from her seat and prepared to walk out.

"Hey; you gotta pay for those drinks!"

"Shaad." Shaad searched his pockets, pretty sure that he didn't have any money. But, from his back pocket he pulled out a single bill and laid it on the counter, confused as to where it came from, but assuming he knew the answer.

"What about a tip?" the bartender complained.

"Don't try to trick me with the cheap stuff or else next time you won't get that much." Raine's words brought a scowl to the man's face which only seemed to worsen at her indifference. Shaad just looked between the two before casually following Raine out.

The city was much larger than one might imagine, and at the pace they were going it would still be about another hour before they reached the center of the city and the imposing tower at its core. After a while, Raine decided she was tired and took the liberty of jumping on Shaad's back so he could carry her. His thoughts were easily dominated by thoughts of the tender melons pressing into his back as Raine rested her head on his shoulder. 'Why couldn't she have worn a bra?' Shaad questioned himself, feeling two distinct buds poking against his shoulder blades. As his thoughts drifted further, recalling the image of those two glorious orbs completely exposed along with the rest of her flawless curves, his groin began to twitch at the uncensored memory, but a nagging sound pulled him from his private world, culminated by something hitting the top of his head with significant force.

"What!?" Shaad practically yelled to Raine, annoyed at being so rudely jerked from his pleasurable musings.

"You slowed down," she complained before provocatively coaxing, "Were you thinking of me?" while wrapping her leg around to discreetly feel at his crotch with her heel. Shaad attempted to hide his flustered face, resuming walking at a brisk pace under the pretense of making good time. "It's okay; I was thinking about you, too." she teased, nuzzling into his strong neck, and enjoying the reaction it elicited when he briefly tensed up.

"You wanna tell me why you wanted to come here of all places, anyway?" Raine inquired after they'd traveled a few more blocks in relative silence.

"I'm looking for someone. . . Do you know where there might be a fight club?"

Raine let out a disbelieving scoff, answering, "No." She then paused, sliding off the rippling muscles of Shaad's back before continuing, "But I can find out. I'll meet you at the hotel tonight." Shaad agreed and the two went their separate ways.

* * *

Raine's feelings about the city weren't getting any better as she walked down the crowded streets, careful not to step on the drunkards and druggies that littered the main pathways. It's not that she was unaccustomed to impoverished and subpar standards of living. She'd actually spent much of her early childhood in slums, mastering the skills needed for survival in such harsh environments and using all of the tools at her disposal whether internal or external. But, upon first being lifted from such rough, unstable conditions, she made a promise to herself to never go back to those uncertain times; times where she was in control of no more than herself and had to depend on others for her survival. Since being introduced to something better, she'd consistently chosen where she wanted to be, and that choice often involved some level of exaggerated luxury such as an upscale neighborhood or resort.

Raine thoroughly searched for some place that might be able to provide the information she was looking for, taking note of subtle signs she'd been taught to keep an eye out for. This was one of the worst districts in the city (which was saying quite a bit) and none were high enough to garner access to the kind of high level dealings she was looking for. Though she learned from, and adjusted her approach accordingly, her initial mistakes that led her into two trashed drug dens, her foray into a whorehouse only secured her a few insubstantial leads to low level fight clubs.

Having exhausted what little the area had to offer, Raine followed a lead she got from one of the hoes, a rather lively young woman dressed in revealing neon attire, as to where she could find some shot callers higher up on the food chain. She must have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way as she stumbled onto a dimly lit street just shy of an alleyway. In the flickering light available to the front of her, Raine thought she saw someone but continued on ahead, not wanting to be trapped in this place with buildings to both sides and barely enough room to maneuver. She stopped just short of the crossroad to a new street when she spotted a glint from a gold tooth in the blinking light that cracked through.

Even in the dimly lit passage, Raine could make out the evil grin and general physique of the gangly man. She knew better than to take a step back, not only would that show weakness, but, more importantly, if the man's nefarious smirk was to be trusted, he already had a friend behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to check her theory and sure enough, her suspicions were indeed right. Behind her, stood an imposing man who looked like he ate weights for breakfast, but couldn't count to two.

Equipping her most disarming smile, flashing her pearly whites from behind those full, plump lips, Raine spoke with a pleasantly enchanting weight to her voice. "I must have the best of luck to have found not one but two strong, capable men. I'm sure one of you can help me out."

She ended by innocently batting her eyelashes, and the man in front took the bait, stalking forward slowly, licking his dry, ashy lips as he lecherously admired all of Raine's curves. "I'm sure we can, but first you'd have to do something for us," he spoke deliberately, massaging his hands together as he imagined the many vile, perverse acts he'd do with that knockout body of Raine's.

In no time at all, he was already right upon Raine, his rancid breath prickling her neck and bringing goosebumps to her skin as he breathed in her perfume. Raine bit back her own breath so she wouldn't have to breathe in the man's days-old must. In one fluid motion, she pulled out her baton and swung hard for the man's cheek (letting it extend from the force of the swing). The solid tip of the baton cracked squarely across the man's face, leaving a growing welt on his left cheek, but that didn't deter the creep even as he wiped the blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

"I like it when they got a bit of fight in 'em." he said with an evil smirk as he lifted himself back to his feet.

"Well then, you'll love me."

At that moment, Raine felt two beefy hands clasp around her ankles. She could only spare a quick glance down - enough to see the hands rising from beneath a manhole cover she was positioned in front of - as she was rushed from both the front and back. Reacting with lightning fast reflexes, Raine jabbed the end of her baton into the solar plexus of the man behind her, winding him and slowing his tree trunk sized arms enough for her to duck down and slam the manhole down on the wrists of the man holding onto her ankles while he wrapped his arms around nothing but the air where her torso was just seconds ago. Just as quickly, she shot up, striking the muscled attacker on the chin with a rising elbow. Her long legs then lashed out like a whip at the angered instigator of this little ambush, connecting with his jaw with enough force to crack bone. The leader's head was pounded through the stone wall of the building to his left by Raine's perfectly toned leg, knocking him unconscious if not killing him.

With the leader downed and the rat in the sewer apparently having scurried off, there was only the muscle left to deal with. Grabbing one of his huge arms, she expertly tossed him over her shoulder, slamming his back into the hard earth causing small cracks to spread along the ground. Raine twisted his arm and planted her heel into the man's throat to get his undivided attention; even if he could overpower her under normal circumstances, she was in complete control from this position, and even he was smart enough to know that and not struggle pointlessly (an act that would only bring him more pain).

"I'm only gonna ask this once, big boy," Raine stated seriously, her eyes narrowing into a scowl. "Where can I get information about the exclusive dealings of the underground?"

The man tried to draw in breath, but that was impossible with Raine's heel firmly on his throat. She moved her foot down to the top of his chest, allowing him to speak in staggered sentences as he sucked in lungfuls of air. "Big G. 'Tected by Tiny. Paradise."

"And where can I find this 'Paradise'," Raine questioned, twisting the man's arm to encourage a quick response.

He lifted his other arm and pointed off in a direction. "Very flashy," he rasped.

Raine nodded her head in satisfaction and flashed a smile before releasing the large man's arm and walking off to the aforementioned location, confident that the man wouldn't be stupid enough to try and attack from behind after being left on his own.

* * *

It was around midnight when Shaad made it to the hotel (after taking a walk around the island and getting accustomed to it, plus getting lost for a spell). The hotel far exceeded any preconceived notions Shaad may have had. It was an immaculate marble building that towered over everything else in the city by at least 20 stories. In the center of all the grimy structures covered in graffiti, it was like a beacon of light. It took some time, but Shaad eventually broke free of his awestruck stupor, shaking the stars from his eyes, and walked into the building. The main lobby was basically a giant club, a level below the building's exterior but still elegant by much of the city's meager standards. Shaad walked through the throngs of people, navigating his way past the well-dressed groups of tattooed hardasses, all of whom looked to be veterans of the criminal underworld, though few seemed to possess truly impressive strength in Shaad's eyes.

Shaad approached the bartender, an attractive young woman, and was immediately captivated by her hypnotizing amber eyes. Remembering why he was there, he informed, "I'm looking for a room."

The woman didn't even look up from the drinks she was making, lighting a fire on one before sliding it along the bar, as she responded. "You want Anna, she's by the lift." Shaad, not knowing what a lift was, looked a bit puzzled. As if sensing that, or just annoyed by his continued presence, the bartender nodded her head in the correct direction.

The lift was a vertical tube that extended to the high ceiling and likely much further, and Anna was a curvaceous blonde, equally as beautiful as the bartender in her pinstripe business suit. She exuded a confidence that immediately made her stand out, far from the scantily clad women dancing in cages around the floor's perimeter. He walked up to her and made the request for a room. Anna skimmed through a black notebook she held in her hands before looking to Shaad. She adjusted her thin framed glasses and spoke in an even, business tone. "I'm sorry, there don't seem to be any rooms available."

Shaad started to respond, but, in an instant, Anna pulled a pointed, black hairstick from the bun on her head - immediately replacing it with a diamond studded comb - and threw it across the room. The hairstick sailed through the lobby, oblivious to the sea of people present, and struck home in the hand of a slimy looking gangster, pinning both his hands into the wall just short of one of the dancer's cages, the jeweled adornment at the stick's end left swaying in the breeze as blood trickled from the wound.

The man's pained screams could be heard over the blaring music, but most of the people present merely brushed it off as an annoyance. "It seems a room has just become available," Anna said without missing a beat.

"I was actually hoping for two -."

"That's perfect." Shaad turned around and saw Raine approaching, wearing a new, cropped fur coat. She walked past him, ignoring his bewildered expression and was about to continue speaking to the woman when someone else attracted her attention.


	8. Answers

**Answers**

The screams of the pinned man were just beginning to die down when a new voice, smooth as silk, glided in. "What was that?" the newcomer, having ascended the spiral staircase that surrounded the base of the lift, asked of Anna. He was a tall, muscled man, his broad chest and shoulders glistening in a fresh layer of sweat. The chains hanging on his black pants jingled an ominous tune as he stopped, swiping the hand of one of his perfectly sculpted arms through his spiky hair, further showing his clean shaven, chiseled facial features.

"Rev was trying to touch one of the dancers. A crew is already on their way to clean out his room, and I have guests waiting to use the room." Anna answered in turn.

"Is this them?" the man asked, the bass in his voice naturally demanding.

"Yes, Mr. Sangre. They just came in."

"I'm leaving to handle some business in a few hours," Mr. Sangre stated while using the towel resting on his shoulders to wipe sweat from his brow and moving his hands past his washboard abs, bringing them to rest with his thumbs hooked on the waistband of his pants, pulling it down just enough to expose his clearly defined Adonis belt but nothing more. "They can stay in the penthouse if they like; everything of mine should be moved out by now and the sheets replaced. The room will be ready for you in an hour; I was just going to take a shower and be gone."

"I'll join you," Raine sang, her eyes locked on Sangre's perfect physique.

Mr. Sangre stopped in the lift's doorway, holding it open with one arm, and looked at the group over his shoulder. "You're new to the island aren't you?" Shaad and Raine both nodded their head, though Raine seemed to be stuck in a trance. "We require payment in advance here." Those words broke Raine from her trance just as the doors to the lift closed and an electronic humming indicated its movement.

"What's he mean pay in advance?" Raine complained, getting right in Anna's face.

"Hotel policy requires advance payment in case something happens to you during your time on the island. However, the hotel assures the safety and security of you and your belongings within these walls." Anna responded calmly. "So how long will you be staying?"

Raine raged on for a few minutes, elevating to cursing and shouting so loud that those nearest the group moved away so as not to be caught in any subsequent crossfire. During her rant, Raine glanced over numerous diatribes including the topic of trust and even a few moments of attempted negotiation.

Anna stood her ground and did well to not show it, but the taller woman's overbearing presence began to intimidate her, and she almost found her foot involuntarily sliding back just as she found her voice to retort. "If you have a complaint about the hotel's policy, I can call Mr. Sangre down. I'm sure he'd be happy to resolve the issue."

Raine was ready to continue her tirade, but this was where Shaad finally stepped in. "That won't be necessary. Here's 28 million beli," he said, practically shoving a briefcase in the woman's arms as he pulled Raine back by her shoulder. "How much does that get us?"

"28 million gets you three weeks in the penthouse," she answered, her voice regaining its previous composure and confidence.

"That sounds great," Shaad replied with a forced smile. "If we still need the room past that, we'll pay you at that time."

"Thank you for your business, and we apologize for the wait. Please have a round of drinks on the house while your room is prepared."

Shaad was nearly driven to shoving Raine as he steered her towards the bar, standing between her and Anna as she angrily glared back at the hotel manager. When they made it to the bar, Shaad all but forced her onto a stool. He then went ahead and ordered them drinks, Anna having already signaled the bartender that they were to receive one round on the house. "Two shots of your strongest alcohol and the house specialty, no alcohol."

"Two shots of Snake Venom and a Diamond Deal done clean," the bartender repeated, immediately making the drinks with such fluidity she likely could have done it blindfolded.

Raine downed the two glasses of nasty looking green liquor set before her in no time flat, emitting a scowl as the strong drink burned her throat. With her raging temper hardly cooled, Raine turned her frustrations on Shaad who hesitantly sipped at the glass of clear liquid, with ice seemingly floating on air within, in front of him. "Who the hell do you think you are freely spending my money!?"

"Wow! This drink is great; you should try one," Shaad could sense Raine seething at his attempt at a casual redirect but trudged on nonetheless. "Yea, you probably want it with alcohol though, right? Excuse me, can we get another. . . uh, Diamond Deal? This time with alcohol."

"I'm not playing with you! You just cost me at least 15 million beli. How'd you even find that money?"

"Here you go."

Shaad grabbed the drink as it was set down and moved it towards Raine only to have it slapped away, shattering against a couple of bottles behind the bar, and earning them both a glare from the bartender as liquor poured onto the floor. "Sorry, I'll take care of that. Could you just give us a minute?" Shaad apologized, waving off the bartender and security as they approached Raine with violent intent. "Raine, this was not a time for negotiation. We had two choices: accept the terms or go somewhere else. And, neither of us wanted to check out the other accommodations this island may offer. As for the money, that hiding spot wasn't as secure as you may have thought."

Shaad tried to turn away, focus on his own drink and how he'd settle the new debt Raine just created for him, but Raine twisted the pendant around his neck and pulled his face to hers, speaking low and threateningly. "That's what the butter knives on your back are for. They refuse, you convince them. What part of that is too hard for your tiny brain to comprehend?"

"That simply wasn't an option," he declared," returning her combative glower with equal ferocity and an added dimension of pleading. "That guy's way too strong to be in the Blues, definitely like nothing I've come across in quite a while. Neither of us would stand a chance against him."

Raine released Shaad's pendant but maintained the close distance and eye contact. "And, how ya figure that?"

"Call it instinct. Gauging strength was imperative in surviving on that island, especially early on. I had to know which beasts weren't worth the trouble, and how much energy to expend. I would've died long ago if I couldn't measure those details, and I'd waste a lot of energy if I went all out against every opponent."

Raine contemplated his words, pushing him away with a disgruntled sigh before asking another question. "Then why'd you let me claim your bounty?"

"I know my limits; that's not a fight I want any part of," Shaad scoffed.

"Hmph," Raine dismissed, her expression softening marginally as she stood up. "You owe me 30 million beli. . . and a detailed explanation of how you found my money."

Shaad spun around flabbergasted and uneasy, not seeing, but vividly imagining, the taunting smirk on his navigator's luscious lips. That wasn't something he was really ready to go through. "I don't have the money to pay for the damages," he meekly explained to the bartender impatiently rapping her fingers against the smooth porcelain counter. She gave him a blank stare that compelled him to speak more, though none of the statements that bubbled from his mouth put him in a more advantageous position. Eventually, he settled on simply asking, "How can I make this right?" with an innocuous smile.

* * *

By the time Shaad finally stumbled into the hotel lift and the engines whirred to life, he was closer to the walking dead than a spirited young man just starting a new phase in his life. He stumbled into the penthouse after briefly fumbling with the key and fell face first onto the empty bed and embraced the cool softness, barely lucid enough to remove his swords and sheath.

"You ready to tell me that story now?" Shaad heard Raine's voice resonate from beside him. He turned to see her sitting in the bedside reading chair in nothing but a towel with her legs crossed. Shaad buried his face in the pillow when Raine got up and opened the curtains with a mischievous grin, letting the first rays of the rising sun break through.

"Not now," he groaned out in a muffled voice.

Shaad felt a weight beside him on the luxurious, king size bed, but he ignored it. The high quality satin sheets felt too good and the soft mattress embraced him so. He couldn't ignore it any longer, though, as the weight shifted and lightly set itself on his back. "Please tell me you have something on under that towel," he whimpered.

"I think you can tell the answer to that," Raine whispered in his ear.

Indeed, Shaad could tell, and in response he released a loud groan into the large, fluffy pillow. "Just let me sleep," he pleaded. "I'm too tired for your games."

Without a word, Raine reached under Shaad's shirt, gently massaging his bare back in slow, sensuous strokes. As she let her hands explore up his back, she gently lay down atop him, ever so slightly pressing her sumptuous chest into his shoulder blades and whispering in his ear in a husky voice that caused Shaad to harden despite himself. "We haven't even started, and you're already spent? Do you intend to leave me unsatisfied?" Raine stretched out that last word in the sexiest way possible. But, when Shaad merely remained silent, Raine lifted up and began to knead more roughly into his dreary muscles, drawing a wince from her captain. "You will give me what I want, and it can either be a pleasant or unpleasant experience."

Shaad let out a frustrated sigh followed by a pained yelp as Raine pressed into his kidneys. "Ooh, somebody worked you over good. The sooner you talk, the sooner the pain just washes away."

Shaad was silent, taking a deep breath as he came to terms with telling Raine the story behind the money. "I went to the ship after we separated to grab a few things and make sure no one had robbed it," he began, his voice catching as he felt Raine's full, luscious lips brush over his bruised kidneys. His mind wracked between the pleasure of her soft lips and the stinging pain he felt as well as trying to organize his story. "No one had robbed it, but. . . gasp, the crew you commissioned was trying to take off with the ship. . . I. . . gasp, went a little overboard in stopping them. One hit me over the back with a chair, so I smashed his head through the mast. A second swung at me with a sledgehammer, and he followed his friend through the mast. It then fell on top of them and through the side of the ship."

Raine's teeth dug into Shaad's tender side when he spoke of the destruction aboard the ship, but she released the sensitive flesh and kissed it before resuming her ministrations, listening intently as Shaad got over the flash of pain and continued his explanation.

"The next two attacked together; I slammed their heads together and tossed 'em overboard. But, I left my back open and got cut as a result." Raine transferred her attentions to Shaad's left side and traced a nail along the aforementioned scar, applying the same tender love and care to that side as she did the other. "I spun around and side kicked him through the upper wall and into your room."

That statement also drew out Raine's ire, prompting her to pinch down on his lower rib, eliciting a strained grimace.

"The last one tried to jump on me from above. I back stepped him and axe kicked him through the deck." Shaad paused, not wanting to tell the rest, but knowing he had to when the pleasant feeling of Raine's mouth against his skin also ceased. "When I checked the damage to your room. . . His head had smashed through the bed's headboard and was stuck in the wall. I removed his head, and that's when I saw the two briefcases. I checked what was inside, placed the contents of the nearly empty one with the fuller second one, and took it with me when I left."

Raine slipped her hands out from under Shaad's shirt and sat straight backed on his legs. Shaad groaned into the pillow while he awaited what he could only imagine was next. The room was silent for a while, and when Raine finally spoke, her voice was hard and even, devoid of its seductive sexiness from before. "You owe me double whatever it cost to repair the ship."

Shaad was surprised by the straightforwardness of her response, but he sucked in a deep breath as he prepared to break even more bad news. "Actually. . . when I looked for the last one that attacked me. . . Uh, how do I put this? . . . I'd kicked him through the entire ship, including the keel. I don't know much about ships, but -"

"The keel is the most important part of the ship; without it, there is no ship."

"Yea, that," Shaad mumbled. "Well, even if it could be fixed. . . the ship was halfway sunk by the time I left. The people here apparently aren't too keen on helping." Shaad quipped in a vain attempt at easing the palpable tension that had filled the room.

His _joke_ , though, fell on deaf ears, and Raine lifted herself off him in silence. He turned in time to see her adjusting the towel around her body, but didn't say anything. "Then, it'll cost you triple the cost of a new ship," she stated flatly.

Shaad would've jumped to his feet had he not been so worn out, but his eyebrows did jump into his hairline. Raine ignored his reaction, though. Instead, she sat down beside his prone form and soothingly rubbed the sore spot over his kidneys and lower ribs. "I know you're better than to let those weaklings do this to you, so what happened?" she asked with some genuine concern.

"That information will cost you," he answered with a smirk.

"Hmph, I think that piece you wanted to know about fight clubs will cover it, don't you?" she returned a dubious smirk of her own.

Shaad had almost forgot about that, responding hurriedly. "You got it? Tell me."

"Of course, I got it. Who do you think I am? But, you first."

"I had to run a few _errands_ to pay for your little tantrum at the bar." There was a hint of sourness in his tone, but it faded as he continued. "I hadn't had any time to recoup my energy all day, and it caught up to me. Had to take a few shots to get through one particularly arduous task; nothing I can't handle."

"You did all that for me?" she cooed bewitchingly. "You're so sweet."

Shaad enjoyed Raine's tender ministrations, but stayed focused. "What about the fights?"

"You're in luck; there's something that should suit your taste in only a few days."


	9. Let the Fights Begin

**Let the Fights. . . BEGIN!**

Shaad and Raine entered the fight arena side by side, each wearing newly bought clothes. Raine showed up in a skimpy, tight little black skirt that went just past her fingertips and hugged her curves like a second skin paired with a white blouse, left unbuttoned enough to expose an ample amount of cleavage, with a silver chain resting between her glorious breasts. Shaad, meanwhile, wore a similarly themed outfit: a pair of black slacks with a white dress shirt that left his muscled chest and silver pendant exposed, his fedora shading his face and swords strapped to his back in their cross sheath. The two also wore a moderate amount of other accessories as well as shades to counter the glare from the numerous bright lights in the dark arena.

The auditorium was large and spacious, an abundance of artificial lighting of all different colors to make up for the complete lack of natural lighting in the underground area.

"I can't believe there was something this huge under the hotel," Shaad exclaimed as his eyes, wide with wonder and amazement, instinctively scanned the vast space. "Not to mention that gigantic gym and the holding area."

"And there's plenty of money to be made," Raine hungrily added, mostly to herself, oblivious to Shaad as her mind was dominated by the sight of money exchanging hands like germs. Hundreds, thousands and tens of thousands of beli crossed under the table between the many high rollers present in addition to the exorbitant bets being placed through the arena's betting stations as an intense fight raged in the cage at the center of it all.

The place was so loud and hectic that the pair had trouble communicating as they snaked their way through the crowd to find a good pair of seats. Shaad went ahead and sat down as Raine signaled that she'd be back after she got a bit more information and made a few bets. Though heated, the battle going on in the ring was largely uninteresting: two muscle bound, gorilla like men clashing over and over in a test of strength with little actual skill involved.

Shaad was yawning when a heavy electrical surge phased through the air. He looked to the ring to see the tanner individual pressing the lighter skinned man against the electrified cage that surrounded them. After almost a minute, the man suffering the shocks began to go slack as the electricity seared the flesh on his back before he was thrown across the cage to the other side and fell down to the ground unconscious after being frazzled on that side of the cage as well.

While the match itself and the result were utterly uninspiring, Shaad took note of the cage as well as the strange collars around the fighters' necks. During the winner's celebration the loser lifted himself to his feet and attempted to escape through the open door only to be felled by what looked to be a strong shock.

"That collars an interesting little contraption." Raine commented, reappearing next to Shaad while he watched the staff carry off the attempted escapee, beating him along the way for insubordination.

"You know something?" Shaad asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Of course," she responded smugly, stuffing a wad of bills along with a few betting slips into her breast pocket. "The collars were designed and engineered by that sexy Sangre character you shied away from. The design is based on the collars Nobles' slaves used to wear, but instead of just a bomb, they deliver a strong shock straight to the nervous system, and if that shock last long enough it activates a bomb at the front. It'll blow your head clean off; all at the press of a button."

"That's quite the setup; I assume Sangre is also responsible for all of the other electrical devices in this hotel." Shaad stroked his chin in thought as he watched a well-dressed man enter the ring to announce the next two fighters. He was pulled from his musings by Raine placing an arm around his shoulders.

"Those collars seem like a good way to keep someone under control. Maybe we should get one for you so you don't destroy my ship next time." Her tone suggested she was joking, but the comment nonetheless drew a considerable amount of ire from Shaad.

"You're not putting a collar around my neck; I'm not some dog," he declared, his voice gruff and serious.

Raine equipped one of her coy smiles and slyly concurred, "Of course not; you're a stallion."

Shaad ignored the obvious innuendo and questioned Raine, "When are the main fights supposed to take place?" The current matchup of a well built, stern faced fighter beating up on some sickly looking young man wasn't at all interesting as he watched from the corner of his eye.

"We're lucky; this club's main draw is actually fighting tonight. . . And, there should be two other good ones scheduled. Now, if only they all go as well as this one."

"That must mean you bet on the skinny kid," Shaad stated. He didn't even need to look her way to feel Raine's eyes on him, a quizzical expression on her face. "The kid's avoiding any real damage from those punches. A shame too; it would only take one good one to knock him straight out, but that military looking creep can't see that."

Raine didn't believe Shaad's assessment, but just a few seconds after those words left his mouth, the thin younger man twisted around a punch to the stomach and jabbed the larger man in the throat, caving his trachea and activating the bomb in his collar with a well-placed knife hand. Raine's objection was subsequently cut off by the sound of her pick to win having his head blown off, splattering blood and skull fragments onto the first few rows. The crowd roared their approval at the gore and were pumped for the next fight while Raine ripped apart her betting slip in disgust.

"C'mon. I know you can read fighters better than that," Shaad chastised his navigator.

"For your information, I can," she defended herself in obvious frustration. "But, they hadn't started fighting when I made the bet, and I didn't expect a risky tactic like that."

Raine watched the next few fights with renewed intensity, hooping and hollering loudly, as she hoped to recoup her losses and make a significant profit while Shaad spent more time lazily taking in the audience instead of the actual competitors, noting how casual they all looked as grown men were killed and beat near death for their entertainment. Old gangsters and new blood alike took in the show, though each with their own nefarious reasons as business was conducted in private and illegal substances transferred between people like normal concessions. Many of the men kept a few scarcely dressed women on each arm, and the few powerful women carved out their own space, commanding the scene with impressive auras.

"Hey sexy, I see yer enjoying the fights. Why don't ya come watch 'em with a real man?" A stocky man, well past his prime, approached Raine, alcohol wafting off his breath in thick waves as he puffed on a cigar as well. He wore an expensive fur coat and numerous gaudy rings and necklaces to show off his wealth and spoke with the paid for confidence of someone used to getting whatever he wanted. Raine looked to him with disgust, turned off by his fat face and stank breath as well as the crass way in which he approached her.

At the same time, Shaad stood up. The stranger thought the swordsman wanted a fight and snapped two chubby fingers to call over his bodyguards, but Shaad merely brushed him aside and walked up the stairs. "I'm going for a walk," he said brusquely, annoyed by the ignorant shot caller.

This action irritated the overweight former soldier, leading him to order two of his men to take care of Shaad even as he slid into the seat next to Raine with a broad smile. After taking another swig of the bottle in his hand, he leaned in closer to Raine, taking in her scent and bringing up a hand to brush aside a few strands of her flowing pink hair. "Now dat da punk's taken care of, how 'bout you and me -"

* * *

"Freeze!"

"I'd appreciate you not point that at me." Shaad had allowed the two goons to follow him out of sight before easily dispatching the pair. He then made his way to the fighters' holding corridor where, only a few steps in, he felt the familiar feeling of a pistol muzzle pressed into the back of his head.

 **[Flashback]**

"You fail," a well-dressed older gentleman spoke sternly to a preteen Shaad while holding a gun to the young boy's skull.

"But, Dad, you didn't tell me -"

"I told you to get in and out without being caught," Shaad's father abruptly cut off his whining.

"There's no way I can avoid all three sisters much less you, Dad." The young boy pleaded, his cries falling on deaf ears.

"Not my problem," his father stressed, the statement punctuated by the distinct click of the revolver's hammer being pulled back. "You know the rules; get caught, catch a bullet."

The younger Shaad tried to drop his weight and spin around with a sweep kick, rising punch combo to avoid the bullet as he heard it leaving the chamber. But, "Bang; you're dead," his father calmly stated as he fired a second gun right in front of Shaad. The bullet whizzed right in front of his nose, and, had he been any faster, would've gone through his skull. Shaad kneeled their panting in relief. It wasn't the first time his father played with his life on a thread, but it never got any less nerve-wracking. His eyes drifted up from the hole left in the ground by the bullet and locked with his father's unapologetic stare, which relayed no emotion only cold calculations, as a few final words of wisdom were imparted before beginning the test again. "Don't worry about the gun; the person will kill you."

 **[Present Time]**

Those words resonated with Shaad as he found himself facing the familiar conundrum, though, in his mind at least, this was far less dangerous. "I'll only say this once more; drop the guns," Shaad commanded, though the authority in his voice was belied by his arms raised non-threateningly in surrender. While the man directly behind him chuckled in amusement, Shaad heard two other sets of footsteps move out to flank him in the wide hallway, but noticed they didn't spread out to where he could see any of them.

With only a basic idea of where each person was, Shaad stretched out his arm and spun around the first man, pushing that one forward and immediately bringing both arms down, drawing and swinging both swords up with lightning speed. Before the other two could pull the triggers of their pistols, Shaad's blades had sliced the metal in half, just missing their fingers, before bringing both swords back and driving them into the guard at his six. In one more fluid motion, Shaad slashed out and hit the remaining two with a swift cross cut that slit both their throats, sending blood spraying from the vital arteries as their bodies fell lifelessly to the ground. Turning around, Shaad returned the swords to their sheath and snapped the leather bands back in place to secure them before resuming his trek deeper into the hauntingly dark corridor.

After a short walk and cutting through a locked metal door, Shaad came across a long line of cells, each holding three or four strong, able bodied men in chains with the distinct collar around their neck. Using the candlelight available, he scanned over the occupants' various injuries, making snap judgments about each of their levels of strength until he stopped just short of a cell - separated from the rest by the length of a single cell - with a lone occupant inside.

Ignoring the mysterious circumstances surrounding that isolated individual for the time being, Shaad turned to an older gentleman with a scraggly beard and rags for clothes that looked like he'd been there for quite a while based on his age and scarring ranging from years ago to fairly recent. "Hey, old timer, where are all the female fighters?"

"Who's asking?" the old man responded in a sour tone devoid of any friendly nature, his gruff disposition showed how the years of near slavery had worn on him.

"An interested party," Shaad answered curtly. "So, now that I've answered your question, how 'bout you answer mine?"

"I can make it worth your wild," Shaad added after a short pause. "Freedom," he clarified upon looking at the man's disbelieving expression.

A few of the newer prisoners started to speak up at that word, but they were instantly silenced when the old man spoke again. "I'm not fool enough to think there's any way out of here. . . but, I'll answer your questions. This circuit don't carry women; they usually treated far worse than any man, and the Head won't put up wit it."

"Oh, and who's the Head?"

"Sangre, Raptor Sangre; no one crosses him."

"Hmph, good to know," Shaad mumbled, dipping his head in thanks. "I certainly don't plan on crossin' him."

Shaad then took the handful of steps to the isolated cage, pulling a torch from the wall for better visibility as he looked over the young man probably only a couple of years older than himself. "And, who might you be? . . What makes you so special that you got the luxury suite all to yourself? . . Come on. I know you ain't dead; I can hear your heartbeat." Shaad questioned the individual, but got nothing in response, no sign of recognition whatsoever.

"It's futile. He won't speak; he can't speak," the old man from before called over.

Shaad perked up in response to the statement and looked in the veteran's direction. "Can't or won't," he asked incredulously.

"I 'sume can't. He had boiling acid poured down his throat shortly after he first came here for some nasty words 'gainst the Head," the old man answered flatly. "Ain't spoke sense."

"Wow. It's amazing he survived that," Shaad muttered, sparing a glance to the individual in question."

"It took months for him recover completely, but was fightin' within one. Head tied his life to the men who did it. He croaked, they go too."

Shaad lightly chuckled to himself, but noticed the strange looks it got him. Answering the faces, he explained, "You clearly don't like me, but you keep talking to me. You either keeping me here or you just ain't talked at length to anyone in quite a while. I figure it ain't the former (you don't seem to like your captors enough to help 'em) so it's just interesting. Anyway, how 'bout you tell me the kid's story, what you know at least."

"From what I gathered from those unlucky nuff to come shortly after him, the kid was a thief round here, a damn good one at that. But the orphan brat made a move gainst the Company; he stole a shitload of cash and almost got away with it," the old man spoke with the hints of a wry smile forming on his lips. "When Company men finally caught him a few weeks later, he was not only lucky nuff to keep his hands, but the Head took a shine to him for his skill. He was thrown into the Pits and was 'parently scrappy nuff to survive."

"When he came to the Arena, he was wild, a brash and arrogant youth, but that never lasts. The Arena got two rules: for fighters, no conflict outside the cage, and for handlers, no unauthorized violence against the fighters. But, the kid operate on different standards. In his first few months here, he killed no less than seven handlers, but by then, he'd already established himself as the top fighter in the Company's stable (and their biggest draw). So, since they can't kill him, handlers are given leeway in punishing him so long as they don't cause undue visible damage to the product."

With all the new information, Shaad turned back to the Arena's champion, looking over him with a fine tooth comb like a piece of meat, well, as much as he could anyway given the circumstances. Once he was satisfied he focused again on the old man, a lingering confusion creeping in. "But, kid ain't got no scars. Hell, he's unblemished."

"Behind the mask," the old man directed. "They cut up his face like a scratching board and got to putting a mask over it. But, he ain't stop till they screwed his entire face, then seared that custom made mask directly onto the flesh. Damn thing was specially made and nigh unbreakable, but if anything ever happened to it. . . Who knows? Kid might die. Either way, getting in the ring with 'im is little more than a death sentence. Killing is optional in dat ring, but kid there kills every opponent without prejudice."

"Thanks, old timer." Shaad took in each word carefully, and pondered the facts and assertions for a moment before looking the champ in the eyes, almost glowing in intense focus from behind that mask. He then let a mischievous smirk grace his features as he bargained, "I like you. Say one word, and I'll cut these bars and those chains right now. How 'bout it?"


	10. The Champ vs

**The Champ vs. . . Shaad?**

"You look happy," Shaad commented to a cheering Raine as he walked back to his seat in the underground auditorium. Flashing his eyes over the two men that he'd left her alone with unconscious on the floor, he added, "Have fun?"

"A little," she cooed to Shaad with a coquettish smile, sitting down and deliberately crossing her long, toned legs as the fight in the cage finished. "You also look quite pleased with yourself. What were you doing, I wonder?"

"I guess you could say I was placing a bet."

"I hope it's a good one."

"We'll just have to wait and see; this bet has a fairly long payout." The pair turned away from each other and back to the ring as the arena lights dimmed and the announcer readied for the main event. Hype music blaring throughout the hidden enclave, spectators filed in en masse as the much anticipated finale finally arrived. Last minute bets were made under the table and illicit business exchanges were conducted on tremendous scale as the announcer's voice roared the traditional promotional spiel for both fighters to bring the collective excitement to its natural crescendo.

". . . And it begins now." Shaad's declaration distracted Raine from the raging noise just as the auditorium reached peak capacity, bursting at the seams with a myriad of unbridled emotions.

She wanted to ask what he meant, but the cheers became deafening as the undefeated challenger, Jay 'Bad Intentions' Maddox, was introduced. Jay was a well renowned fighter in the underground circuit of the island, known far and wide as a brutal powerhouse. His many scars told the stories of his past bouts for those who knew him well, and his fists were widely regarded as possibly the hardest in all of West Blue.

Cheers and hollers shook the room and the hotel's foundation as the rambunctious crowd waited out the ticking seconds, listening to the familiar anthem resonate as video of the challenger's past beat downs played on a large screen. But, those roars of anticipation soon faded, turning to howls of frustration as there were still no signs of 'Bad Intentions' approaching the cage.

"What the hell is going on?" Raine complained as the time spent waiting neared five minutes.

"I am," Shaad responded flatly, rising from his seat as a frantic staff member whispered something unintelligible to the ringside manager all the way down on the arena floor, drawing a sour scowl from the burly, tattooed man as he instructed something back.

Shaad strolled onto the arena floor, past security and the V.I.P.s, without a care, met by the scene of the ringside manager and the announcer having an intense discussion. He overheard someone mention that Jay Maddox was found unconscious in the fighters' holding tunnel along with the three guards' dead bodies. The other fighters provided no clue for what was going on so the entire staff was in a frenzy.

"I don't care what you say; say he fell ill," Shaad heard the manager shout to the announcer to make an official announcement. "We don't have any other fighters ready, so unless you wanna step in there with that madman, we have to call the match."

Shaad listened to them continue to bicker and rant until he felt they were almost through when the announcer finally relented and only commented, "Mr. Sangre's not gonna be happy we had to give refunds."

"That's why we're not gonna tell him. We'll hold an extra show before he comes back to more than make up for it."

"Or," Shaad interjected, approaching the pair with a confident grin. "You could pit me against this 'champion'."

The two broke their exchange to gawk at the audacious young man before the manager called for security and about eight large men, all seemingly capable, surrounded Shaad.

The young pirate captain let an annoyed sigh escape his lips, not bothering to acknowledge the pistols pointed at him any more than that as he continued speaking. "These people came to see the champion fight. If they don't get that, who knows how they'll react. A massacre in that cage will at least quell their blood lust a bit."

"And why would you volunteer to be on the wrong side of that massacre?" the manager questioned accusingly.

"Oh, I have no intention of dying. I just think it's too good an opportunity to pass up."

None of the staff looked to be buying that Shaad had no ulterior motives, but with a severe lack of better options, they slowly relented, the guards lowering their guns at the manager's behest, and asked only one more thing. "What do we get out of this?"

"Saving the show isn't enough for you? Wow, you're greedy," Shaad stated in mock surprise, satisfied that things were going his way. "You can't honestly think lying to a man like your boss would be a good idea. . . But, I'll place a twenty million beli bet on myself to get the ball rolling, anyway. How's that for reason?"

Neither the manager nor the announcer liked the smug grin Shaad was showing, but there was no denying he'd just given them twenty million reasons to go along with his plan. With that jump start and the right odds, they could definitely recoup a hefty amount if not make back the estimated losses entirely.

"And how will you cover that bet?" the two asked almost simultaneously.

"Cash," Shaad stated definitively. "If you don't trust that, I have a twenty million beli bounty on my head (though it'll probably go up after my last little stunt); you can use that to cover my bet."

With a shared silent nod, the announcer went back to make the necessary notifications to the fuming audience members, kept from full scale rioting only by the additional women and pleasure drugs brought in. He pumped them up for a revised main event fight, used the little information he had on the newcomer to reinvigorate the crowd as much as he could, and announced the new betting odds and that bets could be exchanged or refunded.

While the announcer handled his part, the ringside manager dealt with some particulars with Shaad. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Shaad objected, visibly flustered, as the man held out one of those slave collars in a single meaty, tattooed hand. The snake wrapping around his arm down to his palm was almost symbolic as Shaad stared him directly in the eyes with obstinate distaste.

"Collateral," the manager replied, pleased with himself for inadvertently drawing a definitive reaction from the falsely unflappable outlaw. "Just in case you decide you don't want to pay up. . . Though dead men don't object." He punctuated the snide remark with a contemptuous grin.

Shaad controlled his emotions and took a half step back, reaching behind him as he did so, and drew his two swords. The manager swallowed thickly as he gleamed the sharp blades and clipped the collar back on his belt in favor of a more offensive weapon. But, before the man drew the weapon, Shaad extended the swords hilt first and spoke calmly. "These swords will be my collateral. They're a pair of legendary blades worth more than my life - figuratively and literally. If anything happens to them, I'll make any lingering fears of your boss a distant memory." He let the threat hang as he glared the burly man in his beady, amber eyes threateningly.

"And finally, without further ado, I present to you, our challenger, 'The Little Hellion'." The drawn out introduction and the ensuing cheers interrupted Shaad's intimidation, and he handed over his swords before making his way to the cage with contemplated precision, removing his sheath and shirt as he walked. Wrapping the sheath in his shirt, his prized pendant tightly clung around one end of a scabbard, Shaad threw the collection to an anticipatory Raine, and walked into the confines of the electrified cage in only his black slacks and shoes and a white tank top.

'It's a shame he chose to leave that strong chest covered," Raine mentally complained as she caught Shaad's things. 'But, at least I finally get to see him in action.'

Shaad shared a quick smile with the onlooking Raine and cracked his knuckles and neck as he awaited his opponent. 'Alright then, time to see what you got, Mr. Champion.'

"And, finally, the fighter you've all been waiting for," the announcer excitedly bellowed in a deep bass as the lights went completely dark, leaving only a spotlight at the fighters' tunnel entrance and the center of the cage. "The 39-0 Undisputed Master of the Cage, the masked warrior, the champion of this arena, 'The Accursed Fang' Vega!" The full spiel had barely left his mouth before the crowd burst into a frenzy. There was obviously no one who thought Shaad was a legitimate threat to the figurative crown, but the enticing odds brought a sizable number of bets in his favor nonetheless.

Shaad couldn't help but smirk at the immense cheers that made the boisterous round he received seem paltry in comparison as he got his first good look at the famed and touted Vega. 'The Accursed Fang' was a lean, athletic build of sleek, specialized muscle. More slender and slightly taller than Shaad, he strode to the ring with a single purpose though his expression could not be read past the porcelain looking white mask. Shaad stifled a grin at the irony he perceived in the lone teardrop design on the left of the mask as well as the lavender and golden patterned trousers paired with the white leggings and loafers and the gold armlets on this supposedly ruthless killer; he looked more like a fallen prince hiding his shame. But, Shaad recognized the truth in the toned muscles as well as the visual threat of the purple tribal style dragon tattooed on the young warrior's right shoulder and pectoral and wouldn't dare look down on Vega.

'He's quite something.' Raine thought as she gazed upon the champion's entrance, his long, braided ponytail of brown hair and red sash unaffected by his brisk pace due to the graceful gait with which he moved.

Once both fighters were inside the cage, they instinctively sized each other up, ignorant of the announcer leaving the structure's confines and the closing door trapping them within. The fight had begun, but much to the chagrin of the amorous spectators, the two fighters merely circled each other in preparation.

"I've heard a few of the rumors, so I get the Accursed part," Shaad spoke calmly, as if to an old friend. "But, the Fang puzzles me."

As expected, Vega made no verbal response, but when he abruptly stopped circling and brushed the dangling sash aside, Shaad's eyes were drawn to the large claw hanging from his hip. Shaad's eyes went wide as the masked fighter slipped the three bladed claw onto his right hand, and the confident captain sounded a bit nervous when he next spoke. "Oh, now I get it. . . That's a statement, not an invitation," he added after a pause.

With his claw ready, Vega was the aggressor, making Shaad sorely regret not keeping at least one sword. Shaad had to be smart about dodging, moving back at an angle to stay off the electrified cage wall and out of that claw's effective range. After just escaping three cross body slashes, Shaad feinted a third jump back and used his back foot to pivot around the outstretched appendage, countering with a solid left cross that landed squarely across the cheek of Vega's mask. The impact did little to deter the agile cage fighter as he spun with the force of the blow to counter with a spinning back kick of his own. But, Shaad reacted quickly and brought up his forearms to block the swift strike, moving back in time with the blow to once again create some space.

"So; Vega? Is that your real name?" Shaad casually questioned even as Vega lunged at him with a flurry of strike combinations. Shaad wove around the cage staying just out of Vega's range, all the while keeping his tongue as busy as his feet. "Okay, too personal; I get that." he commented, ducking under a swipe from the sharp claw weapon. "Then, what are you hoping to achieve? I'm sure it's not being their little show pony for life." As Vega picked up the pace after that comment, Shaad similarly had to put a bit extra into dodging. "Seems I hit a nerve. Sensitive issue?"

In all the talking, Shaad didn't notice Vega snaking the ground between them, inching his lead foot closer until he clipped Shaad's front leg, putting the pirate off balance for a split second. Vega then sent Shaad slamming into the floor with a forearm hammer shot to the midsection and sent him hurtling across the ring with a kick to the side just as his body bounced off the floor.

Shaad caught himself in a three point stance, using his free arm to soothe the lower ribs on his right side, and took a sec to catch his breath even with his mouth still running, though on a significantly different track. "Sorry, sorry," he strained, "maybe I went too far. . . Definitely; I definitely went too far!" Shaad hurriedly corrected himself as he barely jumped into the air in time to avoid getting three slash marks on his face.

Shaad came down with a powerful straight fist, but Vega easily avoided it, letting the punch send cracks through the floor. Shaad wasted no time, following up with a leg sweep, that Vega stepped back to avoid, and an errant rising backhand that was nowhere close to his target. "That combination works so much better with a sword," Shaad griped in annoyance and disappointment, his shoulders slumping for a split second when he realized how far off he was. But, the trained pirate martial artist slid his front foot back and took up another fighting stance to ready for the next exchange. "Since you obviously don't feel like talking about yourself, I'll tell you a bit about me instead."

As if trying to prevent that, Vega charged forward, leading with his claw. In response, Shaad shifted to a boxing stance, knocking the claw away with an elbow before striking him with a strong uppercut from up close. The direct blow sent Vega stumbling back, but Shaad wasn't finished with him yet.

"My dad's a well-connected asshole," Shaad shouted as he lunged forward, landing another uppercut, this time to the lower ribs. "And, my mom's the angel who married him for the sake of me," he added with a hard cross to the solid mask Vega wore. "Damn, that mask is hard."

Shaad stayed on Vega as his instincts kicked in and he attempted to create space. Hitting him with quick, stinging shots, the talkative pirate kept Vega reeling (and his ears buzzing). "I'm trying to get back home," Shaad spoke while attacking. "I wanted to get back quietly, no commotion you know, but then my father gets a bounty put on me, his own son." Shaad angrily stressed the last word with a gut-wrenching punch, twisting his fist into Vega's side to increase the damage. "Now, things are about to get," Shaad began, switching his approach from stinging strikes to heavy handed haymakers attached to specific subsequent words, "Loud and Fast; in short, FUN!"

The last punch, an overhand left straight, sent Vega flying back into the cage wall, shooting thousands of volts through the lean bodied champion as the crowd looked on in shocked surprise at the seeming upset. "You're a slippery fellow," Shaad commented as Vega willed himself off the cage and briefly staggered to steady his footing. "Those punches would have finished most people, but I just can't seem to land a clean shot on you." Vega then launched forward, weaving from side to side before clashing in a fierce exchange with Shaad, the confident youth holding up well against the dizzying pace Vega set.

Both fighters landed their share of significant blows, but Shaad seemed to take the upper hand when he locked both of Vega's arms with his own, flashing a smile to relay his win. Something about the hold's firmness seemed off to the perceptive Shaad, though, as Vega slipped both arms back as if covered by some slick, translucent oil before bashing Shaad in the face with a headbutt, using his free hand to hammerfist his opponent's opposite elbow and free his claw, and send the brash youngster tumbling head over heels with a forceful push kick.

Shaad hopped to his feet, fingering his bleeding nose for a moment before flashing another smirk in Vega's direction. "You cover your body in oil to make yourself slippery; smart. But, what do you say we get serious? I wanna see the expression on your face when I break that mask," Shaad balled his hand into a fist, snidely adding, "hope it doesn't kill you."

The two immediately charged each other, almost running past each other as Vega's claw ripped into Shaad's chest, trailing three scars over his shoulder. The three semi-hooked blades threatened to catch under Shaad's collarbone, but Shaad turned with it and grabbed Vega's ponytail in a firm grip, pulling the agile fighter into a stiff clothesline that almost took his head off, flipping him and ejecting the air from his lungs as he slammed face first into the floor. Vega reacted quickly, practically jumping to his feet, but when he turned around, he was met by a thunderous straight.

Shaad put his full power behind that punch and sent Vega hurtling into the far wall of the cage. Shaad almost thought he heard an empty gargle as tens of thousands of volts coursed through the masked warrior's body, sending the young man collapsing to the cage floor, broken pieces of the sturdy mask he wore crumbling off from the unrestrained collision.

* * *

 **A/N: I'll be posting a new chapter for this story next week as well since I got mixed up last week. Then, just in time for Halloween, _Dawn of a New Age_ will begin a special Horror arc and I'll be back to my regular posting schedule. Thanks for reading and be sure to review.**


	11. Blindsided

**Blindsided:**

 **A Surprising Loss**

You could hear a pin drop in the massive arena; the crowd sat figuratively on the edge of their seats in stunned silence, gawking at the champion, Vega, laying nearly motionless on the cage floor surrounded by pieces of his broken mask. Shaad merely looked down on the fallen warrior with a content smirk. He respected how far 'The Accursed Fang' had already pushed him, but was far more interested in the fact that Vega was beginning to stir.

Vega struggled to pick himself up, his arms shaky under his own weight, but it was the expression in his eyes that drew Shaad.

"So, you do get angry; it's the first time I've gotten this feeling from you," the brash pirate remarked in interest, intently observing the clear rage in the right eye of Vega, visible through the gaping hole he'd punched in the mask.

Shaad waited for Vega to lift himself up, an action the pirate captain immediately regretted when, just as soon as he'd gotten steady on his feet, Vega launched past his opponent. In the split second it took Shaad to turn his gaze over his shoulder, Vega had springboarded off the cage wall, metal claw bared threateningly, and zipped by, cutting three bloody scars into the side of Shaad's head, ripping off a piece of the youth's ear and almost taking out his left eye as well. With Shaad's freshly drawn blood dripping off the claw, Vega charged in again, but, Shaad was ready, ducking under the claw strike and connecting a punch of his own to Vega's ribs at the same time. He followed that up with a vicious hook to the shielded cheek of the masked fighter.

But, Vega seemed unfazed, countering with a backhand using the metal claw on his still extended arm. The impact shook Shaad, forcing him back. Vega tried to connect with a second backhand only to have his arm caught by the challenger, though he didn't panic, tagging the back of Shaad's knee nearest him with a heel kick. The blow put Shaad off balance and made an easy target for the follow up sweep kick that brought the wounded challenger to a knee. Completing the single kicking motion, Vega connected with a solid back kick to the nape of Shaad's neck, freeing his arm in the process.

Shaad was down, but not out, rolling away from the attempted axe kick that came next. As blood continued to pour from his newest cut, obstructing the vision in his left eye, though, he decided he could no longer afford to stay at Vega's preferred range, a variable made difficult to adjust to thanks in large part to the added reach of the claw. Shaad then rose into a crouched position, pushing off with enough added force to leave craters and cracks where his feet were.

Vega met the charge head on, but when Shaad went low for a tackle, he instead lifted up, delivering a powerful knee that knocked Shaad's nose nearly back into his skull, exploding his nasal passage with a single blow. Vega then used Shaad as a human springboard to back flip and land a toe kick, knocking the dazed challenger into the electrified cage.

The shock was more painful than he'd imagined, but that was the least of Shaad's problems at the moment as Vega landed and launched himself shoulder first into the young pirate. With Vega's shoulder rammed under his chin and his arms splayed out wide, Shaad could do nothing but grit his teeth and take the beating that Vega rained down upon him: a series of punches, knees, and elbows at the uncomfortably close range.

After almost two dozen direct, unopposed strikes, Vega let up, leaving a barely conscious Shaad to stumble forward haphazardly and without the charred remnants of his top, still jerking uncontrollably as the final volts worked their way through his beaten body, reaching for anything he could get his hands on. Vega still wasn't finished, though, hitting Shaad with a thunderous spinning roundhouse that threatened to shatter his jaw even as Shaad's fingers caught in the hairs of the champion's braid. The force shot them apart, snapping the band that held the braid neatly together, but Shaad felt the initial impact clearly as well as the sudden snap of his neck as Vega's foot collided with his jaw like a block of cement, making the flesh across his face ripple in response and spinning him across the cage into another part of the shocking grid. The pain wracked his body something awful, but somehow he gathered up enough willpower to focus and catch the jumping side kick Vega aimed at him, getting pulled along with Vega's leg away from the cage wall.

However, the brief respite turned out to only be the disheartening trip from the frying pan into the fire as Vega used his caught leg as a center point to jump and whip Shaad across the jaw with another bone jarring kick from his other leg, this time laying the resilient pirate out on the floor. Shaad was only remotely aware enough to roll away, primarily on instinct, from the fist that came at his head next. But, Vega had used the punch as decoy, pushing Shaad nearer the blades of his claw that sat waiting on the opposite side.

Shaad stopped in time enough not to have his throat slashed, landing a palm strike to the exposed wrist of Vega to remove the most immediate threat and imbalance his opponent, setting the champion up for a double kick to the chest and face. Shaad used the opportunity to immediately hop up, lashing out as he did so to fend off Vega. He pushed the last bits of his energy to their limits in an attempt to prolong the fight and maybe turn it back around, but, turning his head, he realized the futility of such an act as three sharp points pressed into the side of his larynx enough to just draw drops of blood. Somehow, the swift and agile Vega had gotten behind Shaad pressing a forearm to his back and the claw to his neck. If he were to fight back now, his throat would doubtlessly be ripped open and his blood would paint the floor.

Shaad didn't dare even breathe unwisely from his position. After calmly analyzing the dire situation, Shaad spoke lowly. "You got me. I give."

After a few more seconds, Vega shoved Shaad forward, his hand immediately reaching up as he balanced his footing. Shaad turned back to Vega slowly and unthreateningly, crooking his knee and giving a slight bow - too prideful to get on his knees for anyone - with his arms out to the side. He wore an oddly satisfied smile as he lifted his face up, raising his voice to be heard by the staff and the confused, waiting crowd. "This is my loss. . . You win."

The crowd was admittedly stunned by the development, some cheering Vega's dominant victory, some applauding the tenacity and fight Shaad showed, and others outraged by the anticlimactic end, wishing one side to be left dead and bleeding. Raine, though, looked most shocked and outraged, not only by the fact that Shaad lost, but the way in which he did so. But, Shaad's display was not only an admission of defeat. He left himself brazenly exposed to a killing strike from Vega, confident 'The Accursed Fang' wouldn't give up a kill he'd earned just to take one given to him not minutes later.

Shaad watched Vega as the victor gracefully glided across the ring, locking eyes with the man he challenged and failed to defeat. Even after such a strenuous match, Vega still held himself with a manufactured poise, refusing to let anyone see even the most minute signs of weakness even as his elegant, auburn hair cascaded in loose waves over his face, shoulders, and down his back. The two held their silent exchange until Vega strode past the bowing Shaad, not lifting a hand until he called for the door to be opened.

Dumbfounded by the fact that Vega's fight was over, yet his opponent still breathed, the announcer had to clear his head before officially declaring the match's result while the manager unlocked the door and allowed Vega to take the well-traveled path to the arena's infirmary. Other staff came inside the cage to escort Shaad to a separate part of the infirmary, and the ringside manager followed him away from the ring as the announcer put the finishing touches on the night's action.

The infirmary's doctor was surprisingly efficient, disinfecting the numerous cuts Shaad received during his bout, drawing a wince when alcohol was applied to the wound by his eye, before stitching up the cuts and providing him with a nasty drink to replenish some of his expended energy.

"You're quite lucky," the doctor conversed while applying an ice pad to Shaad's bruised ribs. "Not only is your eye still fully functional, but you're the first person to live through a fight with Vega."

"I guess he likes me," Shaad joked in response, his expression turning sour when the manager approached wearing an arrogant grin on his bulbous features.

"Time for you to pay up," he declared outright, foregoing any formalities.

"Time for you to return my swords," Shaad responded with equal impatience.

"It's time to honor your end of the deal."

"Gladly. . . as soon as I see my swords."

"You will pay your debts. . . Or else."

"Or else I won't?" Shaad questioned rhetorically, eliciting an irritated growl from the older man while covering his own growing annoyance as well.

"You're an arrogant prick if you think you have a choice," the manager boasted, calling three armed men to block the only doorway out.

"And, you're deaf in addition to blind and stupid if you think I don't," Shaad replied with the utmost seriousness, his anger steady rising in the time he spent without his prized weapons.

The two looked upon one another with fixed glares, each attempting to relay the unspoken threat. The atmosphere remained tense until a sound distracted them both.

"Ahem," a female cleared her voice loudly.

Shaad peaked over the manager's shoulder and spotted Raine with her baton extended in one hand and her drawstring bag on the opposing shoulder with the other, standing amidst the three now heavily bruised and unconscious guards. The rapid, incessant tapping of her foot accompanied by the highly pissed expression she wore made Shaad shy away in a near cold sweat as she spoke. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she questioned in an irritated tone.

The manager looked simultaneously enraged and confused as his eyes traveled over the beaten and swollen forms of his guards and up to the young woman standing triumphantly over them having not noticed her presence until she made herself known. At the same time, Shaad was trying to not be seen without looking like he was hiding. But, anything further was interrupted by the familiar ding of lift doors opening.

As the sound of heels clacking on a marble floor drew nearer, all eyes went to the set of doors in back of the infirmary. After a few moments with no sound but that continued clacking, everyone bore witness as a petite woman in a pinstripe business suit with a pencil skirt and black sheer stockings confidently strode in. Shaad immediately recognized her as the building manager from upstairs.

The ringside manager was the first to say anything, his voice hesitant and fearful. "Ma- ma'am," he uttered the single word nervously. "To what do we owe the honor?"

The woman, for her part, ignored the man's attempt at being cordial, immediately ordering, "Return this man his property; he is this hotel's special guest. As for you, this is the second time tonight you've almost disgraced Mr. Sangre's name. You will be punished accordingly." The ringside manager audibly gulped at the small woman's threat, snapping two fingers impatiently and in hurried fashion. A couple of minutes later, Shaad, who had moved to standing next to Raine, was reunited with his treasured blades. He'd avoided explaining the situation to a fuming Raine and could only hope that the tension and urgency of the situation prevented her from having an outburst when he asked, "Raine, pay them twenty million beli." However, he strongly doubted it would make a difference.

Needless to say, he was stupefied when she complied without so much as a dissenting word, handing the designated stack of bills to the composed and silently threatening woman, who thumbed through the bills and withdrew three million beli worth. She then handed the small stack back to Raine. "Manager's fee. The hotel's Events branch appreciates you loaning us such a fine competitor."

With that business taken care of, Raine and Shaad were allowed to freely exit the area and return upstairs. For much of the walk, not a word passed between the two, leaving them alone in an awkward and deafening silence with Shaad following slowly behind her, head down, reminiscent of a moping puppy. "You know, it's funny," Raine began suddenly as they neared the doors leading to the lobby, causing Shaad to perk up as if he'd just been given the greatest gift. "You continue to find new ways to cost me money and piss me off without once doing anything for me in return. You. . . No, that's it; I'm through." Raine's words left Shaad dazed and disheartened as she walked into the hotel lobby and out the front door without looking back while Shaad merely stood frozen on the top step behind the double doors to the lobby, watching Raine walk away through the small window on the door.

What seemed like hours ticked by in silence, each passing second mocking him endlessly until an employee swung the door smack into his face. The young woman dressed as a waitress quickly apologized before rushing down the stairs, but Shaad didn't hear a word of it, holding his broken nose tenderly as he finally walked through that seemingly cursed threshold, heading straight for the lift and the penthouse suite.

Shaad was in a zombie like trance - physically fine but mentally and emotionally drained - as he stepped foot inside the penthouse. The opulent, spacious apartment seemed so much emptier than normal; the soundproofed walls and flooring making Shaad feel as if he were trapped in his own lonely, little world. He tried his damnedest to push those pessimistic thoughts aside as he fell lifelessly onto the luxurious king sized bed. It had taken the remnants of his composure to keep himself upright, and put on a strong front for as long as he did, and now he just wanted to embrace the pleasures of sleep and replenish himself. But, as if rejecting that very notion, his mind fought against him every step of the way.

Shaad had never thought of having a crewmate that acted the way Raine at times did. He never figured he'd grow borderline accustomed to her teasing or the way she groped, cuddled, and grabbed anything around her in her sleep, a source of no shortage of pleasant, if not conflicting, dream filled nights. And certainly, never in his wildest imaginings, did he ever fathom he'd miss Raine's teasing antics (or the recurring abuse). But, faced with the prospect of never seeing her again, he couldn't help but long for her - her warmth, her scent, her gentle touch - as he lay down completely alone with only his thoughts for the first time since starting this journey. Luckily, he didn't need to sleep to replenish energy - albeit at a slower pace than if he did - as he released a frustrated groan and picked himself up out of the bed.

"I can't do this."


	12. Pleasure

**Pleasure. . . or Pain?**

It had been hours and still Shaad had seen no sign of Raine. Granted, Shaad didn't have a clue as to where she might have gone so he had to slow his search a bit, but he was about to lose hope in finding her on this side of the island entirely as he moved through the lower West Side, by far the most violent area on the island. Though it was certainly not the most rundown piece of the island, to Shaad it seemed far below what he presumed Raine's standards to be.

Sighting two separate street fights along the road, Shaad headed that way towards a hole-in-the-wall dive bar. He'd barely taken three steps in that direction when a piece of rotting wood flew in from the side and hit him in the head. He recovered quickly and traced it to a third ongoing scrum. Not in the mood for a peaceful resolution, Shaad clenched his fists and strolled over to the brawling pair. The two didn't even pay him any mind until he hammered his fists together with their heads in between, breaking their noses and drawing copious amounts of blood as they were knocked unconscious in an instant. Deciding to make something of the venture, Shaad checked the two men for cash and headed for the bar.

* * *

Raine downed another drink, exhaling from the burn of the alcohol sloshing down her throat. She'd been at it a while and had a good buzz going as she called to the bartender to bring her an Aunt Roberta and some snacks while she nursed another beer.

"Ya look like you're lookin' for sumthin' at the bottom of that bottle," a thin young man with a messy appearance commented to her, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Maybe I can help you find it?"

"Piss off," Raine sounded brusquely.

But the young man kept his playful smile, unperturbed by her rough attitude as he reached out to caress her shoulder. "Haha, a hard shell houses the sweetest core. I think we could have some real fun, you and I."

The man's hand was stopped from reaching its intended target by a vice like grip preceding a masculine voice speaking in a warning tone. "She said piss off."

Raine didn't need to hear the voice; she recognized Shaad's presence behind her as well as the familiar surge in emotion before the suave fellow cried out from having his wrist snapped like a twig. "What? I told you I'm through." She spoke coldly to Shaad while the stranger slunk away with tears forming in his eyes at the sight of his bone sticking out from the skin. His friends, meanwhile, wisely chose to follow him out as opposed to challenge Shaad.

"I just came to apologize," he spoke with genuine regret.

Raine scoffed, but showed no resistance or lingering ill will as he sat on the barstool beside her and order two glasses of Clear Shot, opting instead to ignore his presence altogether.

"Look Raine, I'm sorry. I'm not used to coordinating. I was raised and trained to do everything on my own." Shaad pled his case, and was a tad surprised and distraught when Raine turned to him with an expression he'd never seen from her, a cold mix of anger and disappointment.

"It's not even about that. Do you have any idea the positions you've put me in? Money ain't free, and dealing with you ain't cheap."

"Yea," Shaad replied with a slump of his shoulders. "Money has never been a real concern for me. I either took what I wanted or it was covered."

Raine involuntarily let out a haughty, disparaging scoff before replying. "And you have the gall to think you've done shit on your own."

Shaad had never looked more pathetic than when she said that, struggling to figure out how to say what he wanted. "I only. . . recently realized. . . how critical a role my parents have played in covering me up till now." Shaad paused a moment to collect himself, remembering his dad's beatings from when he let his emotions get the better of him. "But, I'm working to change that. I think that's why my dad stranded me on that island in the first place, so I could learn to recognize and depend on my strength."

"It's funny how me taking care of your messes is depending on your own strength," Raine spoke with a cold tone devoid of humor. "I ain't your momma."

"No, you're my navigator. And with me as captain and you as my navigator. . . That's it; shit's a wrap." Shaad said with complete confidence, allowing himself a small smile at the imagined dominance.

But, Raine didn't share his feelings. "You're right. Shit is a wrap. Hope you don't need me to navigate you a way out of this bar."

At that, Shaad gave up for the moment. "Fine," he muttered as he got up from his seat, "hope you at least reconsider." Raine didn't budge as he significantly overpaid for his drinks with the stolen money and left, only taking a swig of her newly arrived Aunt Roberta while contemplating her own thoughts and actions.

Only halfway to the door, though, Shaad was approached by two intoxicatingly sexy women, swooping in like birds to help lift his spirits. The first, a leggy blonde with to die for curves and cherry red lips, stood seductively in black thigh high boots with fishnet stockings peeking from the top, leading Shaad's roaming eyes up to a pair of skin tight shorts that may well have been painted on and a top that was, more accurately, just two slim strips of material crossed in a deep set V- styling, struggling just to keep her bountiful breast contained as her gum drop nipples poked through the thin material.

Shaad hadn't regained enough self-control to bring his eyes up to meet hers when a caramel skinned goddess danced into his vision, dressed like a harem girl in a purple bra with golden teardrop adornments covering her perfectly sized breasts as a sheer lavender shawl rested on her shoulders and arms, leaving her midriff exposed and showing the sapphire stud piercing in her belly button. As she got closer, Shaad's prying eyes cursed the sandy brown and gold harem pants - on top of golden slippers - covering her voluptuous hips, though they were soon distracted by the sparkling rings on her slender fingers and the bangles on her wrists as she placed a gentle arm around his shoulders and caressed his cheek, enticing his eyes to take in the silver chain nestled comfortably in her bosom.

Shaad didn't resist their advances, but the aggressive action did prompt numerous questions, though those were quickly disregarded and forgotten as the blonde placed a petite hand on his other cheek and brought those full lips to his ear. As she whispered all kinds of lewd things just between them two, Shaad's body reacted accordingly as each word passed those cherry lips, his mind already racing on what else might possibly go through those full, pouty lips in just a short while.

Whatever resistance or reservations Shaad still held quickly evaporated as the tanned brunette brought her lips close to his own and breathed a small wisp of some unknown substance into his system before giving him a peck on the cheek, flushing his entire body in a pleasurable warmth and making him highly receptive to their roaming hands and light brushes as they led a very pliant Shaad away from the bar.

Many of the bar's patrons shrugged off the scene including Raine who only spared the trio a brief glance as they left, a disgusted scowl passing her lips as she noticed the matching tramp stamps of a BM logo like design inside of a heart with flourishes reaching out to their hips as if to wrap around on each of the women's backsides. But, that feeling passed as she was struck with a pang of regret watching Shaad so willingly leave with the two strangers. 'Maybe I was too hard on him. I decided to follow him because I thought it'd be fun and unpredictable. . . He's at least always unpredictable. I mean who would've thought I'd become a pirate anyway? I guess if I'm gonna follow him, I better make up my mind to trust in him now; it's not like he's given a reason to think he's unreliable. . . well, reasons. . . not that many though. . . But, why'd he go off with those whores; is he that desperate?'

"Seems your man left you high and dry, the fool," a smooth, tenor voice crooned from behind her, interrupting her musings. "I'd like to leave you wet and happy," he added with a pleasant grin, a small twinkle in his eye.

Raine just gave an annoyed groan at the man's flirtatious attempts, taking another large swig of the strong Aunt Roberta before going back to tapping the nearly empty glass.

"I was just offering to buy you another drink since you're almost done with that one," the man explained as he placed a conservatively jeweled hand on the counter beside Raine.

"I don't need you to buy me a drink," Raine declared.

"Of course not, but a beautiful woman shouldn't drink alone, and there's no reason for you to pay for your own drinks."

Raine then spun around in her seat and looked the man in his pretty brown eyes. He was actually quite cute, and if Raine wasn't in such a foul mood, she might be tempted to return his playful coquetry, though his bluntness soured that lone pleasantry. She promptly warned him in an even tone, "I'm not in the mood. If you don't back off, you'll have my heel shoved so far up your ass, when women call you a dog, it won't just be a figure of speech."

The young man's smile faltered a bit at the threat, but after a brief gulp, he tried to move closer to Raine, reaching out to caress her smooth skin, only to be stopped by one of her heels shoving into his diaphragm and knocking him back into a table of roughnecks. The one who was pushed face first into his food and drink, a short, stocky fellow with oversized arms and a muscly neck, rose from his seat and growled at the pretty boy through gritted teeth as his beer dripped from his face. As he attacked the smaller man, his friends soon joined in and the entire bar eventually erupted into an all-out brawl as collateral damage quickly spread the chaos, drawing in all except the bartender, who cowered behind the bar with a flintlock pistol shaking in his hands.

* * *

Shaad had gone to a nearby hotel with the two beautiful women, learning their names the last thing on his mind as pure pleasure flooded his senses, his hands exploring their supple bodies, particularly enjoying the handfuls of their firm backsides he currently held, as they kissed along his neck, tracing their way up each side of his jawline while their hands rummaged beneath his shirt and rubbed his strong chest tantalizingly. The tingling sensations rippled along Shaad's sensitive skin as the three hurriedly moved through the doorway of a rented room just as each of the women's tender mouths pressed against his own.

Breaking the brief, if not pleasantly awkward for the inexperienced Shaad, three way kiss, the shapely mocha skinned dancer swished her hypnotizing hips, holding Shaad's gaze as she threw her shawl around his neck and pulled him in for a lust filled kiss, her skillful tongue invading his mouth as his hands roughly grabbed the luscious lobes of her ass and pressed her to his aching crotch while the blonde removed his shirt from behind, trailing her hands along the defined muscles of his torso and down to his belt.

The brunette pushed away from Shaad's embrace and the blonde moved around to his front, removing his belt and pushing him down onto the bed. Trailing kisses along his abs and to his chest, she then straddled him. Shaad reached up and pulled her in for a hard, lingering kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance in their frantic foreplay. He let his hands move down the blonde's face and to her slender shoulders as she broke the kiss, sliding her top off and taking hold of her glorious breast, kneading them sensuously until he felt the nipples harden in his palms and heard her moan in satisfaction.

Replacing his hands with his lips, Shaad lifted her higher so he could grip her ass, sliding his hands over the swell of her back and into her inconceivably tight shorts as he swirled his tongue around the still hardening bud of her right breast before transferring his attentions to its twin and continuing his ministrations. Pulling his hands away from kneading the globes of her ass, Shaad worked furiously to remove her shorts as she slid down on him and simultaneously worked on stripping his remaining clothes. The blonde lifted her hips, allowing her shorts to be pulled down, exposing the pink lace thong she wore underneath, and at the same time, pushing Shaad's pants down enough for him to squirm out of them.

The brunette pulled one of Shaad's hands away from under the band of her friend's thong and placed it on her toned abdomen before leading it to her own full breasts. Shaad gently massaged the beautiful breasts of this alluring goddess through the padded material of her bra, soon undoing the cumbersome garment and pushing it aside while the blonde removed his boxers and freed his erect member.

The two women shared a sultry smile at Shaad's impressive length and girth before the blonde slowly and seductively snaked her way between his legs, holding them open and letting her breasts graze along his receptive skin as she moved up his frame inch by inch until her wetness sat atop his penis, grinding back and forth along the sensitive ridges of his manhood in a rocking motion with only a thin strip of lace between them while the brunette held Shaad's head against her chest, enjoying his attentive tongue sliding over and around her responsive nipples as he sucked one and then the other between his lips.

Distracted by the pleasure he was already feeling and thrusting his hips, begging for entrance into the blonde's warm canal, Shaad allowed the brunette to pull his hands from squeezing her breasts, giving no resistance as she lay him back and held his hands over his head, only enjoying the circles being traced around his nipples by the blonde's talented tongue while his own eeked pleasurable moans from the busty brunette as he went to town working her perfectly firm and round tits with his mouth.

However, when he felt his hands being bound to the bedposts with leather straps, Shaad made to resist until the blonde sultrily whispered in his ear, "Let us take care of you," playfully nibbling on his earlobe while she pressed her hot sex down onto his probing cock, the wet cloth of her panties keeping the two from coming completely together and providing that ultimate rush of gratification as his wrists were securely outstretched and bound to the solid bed frame. The two then made to give similar treatment to Shaad's ankles, leaving him stark naked and spread eagle on the bed with his cock painfully erect and pointing straight up.

While the blonde then dropped to her knees between Shaad's open legs, enjoying the sight of his fully exposed member, the brunette returned to his side. Placing a hand gently on his chest, she kissed Shaad deeply, using her tongue to push something into his mouth, caressing his neck to coax it down his throat.

The caramel skinned woman then stood up and spoke to the blonde stroking Shaad's length. The young pirate was unable to make out the words as his hearing inexplicably faded along with the pleasurable sensations running through his body, but the next thing he knew, the blonde softly pecked his suddenly deflating penis and stood up to her feet.

* * *

"It's a shame. I would've liked to play around with him a little more. . . vigorously," she spoke suggestively. "He was quite gifted."

"Just get dressed; we have a job to finish."

* * *

Shaad couldn't make out the words or even much of the lip movement as they began shuffling around the room. The last thing he saw was a faint, hazy image of the tattoos on their lower backs before his vision totally faded, his eyelids fell shut, and he drifted into unconsciousness.


	13. Setting the Stage

**Setting the Stage**

Shaad's vision was the first thing to return, at least in part. The room came to him in hazy splotches, dull colored blobs in his field of view. He tried to look around, but his head pounded with every exertion, the constant ringing in his ears threatening to break what remained of his sanity. For several minutes, Shaad could only lay there with his eyes closed, conscious but immobile as every little action he was capable of, even breathing, sent pain whirring through his system and every speck of light was a brutal assault to his tired and sensitive retinas.

He tried to recall how he ended up in the position he was in, but he couldn't even figure out what position that was. Wracking his mind every which way, Shaad tried to piece together the broken memories from last night. There was a bar, and Raine, and. . . and two other women, and then. . . nothing. 'See, this is why I don't drink.' He didn't recognize the two women and his first thoughts went to the bartender. But, even then, things didn't make sense; he'd watched the bartender, even if just out of the corner of his eye, and saw nothing out of the ordinary, at least not that he could remember. Besides, the bartender seemed too cowardly for such action, and a nagging sentiment at the back of his head kept telling him the two women were important, somehow.

Shaad tried to focus on that part of his memory, but that just brought a new round of headaches. He pushed through the pain, though, willing himself to remember. Finally, when he was ready to cry out from the building pressure within his skull, a series of images came to him. He knew those women. Not their names or backgrounds; he realized he knew them on a more carnal level as memories of rough, lust-filled kisses and roaming hands came to the forefront.

Those memories were nice and all, but something before that seemed strange. Shaad focused further, ignoring the pain that came with doing so, and remembered one of them - a brunette, maybe - blowing a white cloud of something in his face. 'That's it! They drugged me. . . But, I don't think that would've put me out like this; after that cloud, my body was warm. I was sensitive to touch and. . . aroused. . . I was up in more ways than one, a full go when I fell out. But, if not the vapors then what? Why is my body so weak?'

Shaad wracked his brain trying to organize the scattered mess that was currently his mind, focusing as much as he could on the last moments before he fell unconscious: being pushed onto the bed, the kissing, groping, grinding - the pleasures of those moments returned in a flash - and being tied up. 'That's it!' Shaad mentally celebrated even as mind numbing pain spread through his body, recalling that he'd been tied up and the same woman that blew the mist in his face, kissed him deeply shortly before he fell unconscious. ' _Ugh._ That bitch. . . That beautiful, beautiful bitch; she slipped me something. A pill, two pills, and I wasn't even in my right mind enough to resist. Whatever it was acted fast. I don't even remember having time to panic as my senses failed me and my body shut down.' The feeling to his extremities gradually returned with the realization, but, with that also came the total donning of his current predicament: strapped to a bed by all four limbs, spread eagle and stark naked.

Despite the sharp, tightening pain it caused throughout his body, Shaad wrestled with the bindings. But, there was nothing he could do. They were too tight and too strong, and he was too weak. Shaad looked around as he tried to think of a way, any way to get free and rid his system of the drugs. Looking around, he noticed something, though: none of his things were in the room with him, not even his clothes.

Now, Shaad wasn't much one for panic, but he was one to get angry, extremely angry. And, when he noticed not even his pendant was still around his neck, his fury rose to new heights and he echoed a scream of silent rage, face clutching in a twisted scowl though no sound escaped his open mouth. Fire burned in his eyes, and a single desire filled him. He focused intently on pushing the drug from his system, the mind wrenching pain not even worthy of being called an afterthought.

Shaad didn't know how it happened, nor did he exactly care at the moment (his mind focused on darker thoughts), but somehow, through his willpower, he pushed his body to its limits, using his reserve energy to speed up the internal processes to a life threatening pace and flush the drug from his system in record time (A feat only made possible by his subconscious performing the same trick just before he fell into unconsciousness). However, even with the drug all but forced completely from his system, his body still felt. . . detached, as if it were not his own. But, he clenched his fists tightly, focusing on flexing every muscle in his body one by one until he was once again completely aware of his control over them. Once that was finished, with an audible grunt of exertion, Shaad used his remaining energy to pull both of his arms forward, splintering the bedposts, before ripping the ties from his wrists and ankles, leaving red burn marks in their wake, and sitting up in the bed.

With his mind mostly clear and his body his own, Shaad's recollection of the night's events finally began to come to him in full. He'd have to use what little knowledge he had of the girls to find them and get his stuff back, and with that in mind, one image persisted in his head, the tattoo on their lower backs: a BM Logo inside of a heart with tribal style flourishes extending from the heart to their hips. Shaad was standing up when he heard a sound outside. He walked over to the window, rain pouring outside, and saw two men rushing in the front door, weapons in plain sight. He couldn't be sure, but his instincts told him they were after him, and so he hid, lying in wait behind the door for them to come barging in.

They didn't barge in, though, per se, opening the unlocked door and storming in noisily. They were both inside by the time they realized Shaad wasn't in the bed. Without a word, Shaad stepped forward from the shadow of the open door and snapped each of their necks with one hand, leaving them to crumple lifelessly to the floor. He then stripped one of the men of a pair of black jeans and matching tennis shoes, not wanting to go into a rainstorm in just his boxers (which he'd found at the foot of the bed), and took the black sleeveless hoodie and gun off the other.

Shaad quickly dressed in the stolen clothes, opting to go shirtless with the hoodie unzipped. He then left the room, putting his hands in the hoodie's front pockets as he came to the bottom of the stairway. There was a card in one of the pockets, and when Shaad withdrew it he noticed the design that he'd burned into his memories. He was at the front desk in a flash, burrowing holes through the skull of the squirrelly, rat faced deskman with an intense glare. Shaad had noticed the shocked expression the gangly man had when he first descended the stairs, and figured quickly that everything had been a set up and that this man had obviously been paid off to let him be drugged, robbed, and then disposed of.

Shaad grabbed the terrified clerk by his skinny neck and wrenched him closer, glaring even deeper into his deceitful eyes before demanding answers. The man was truly pathetic as he began to beg for his life in sporadic mumbles as his neck was nearly wrung out, tears starting to stream down the sides of his face. Shaad wasn't in the mood to ask twice, but when the grip tightened, answers flooded out. Shaad threw the man roughly into the back wall, and as he looked up, a pleading thankfulness in his eyes, Shaad made room for a third eye right between the other two.

'Naw, I don't like it.' Shaad thought, dropping the smoking gun and going out into the night time air, the sky crying profusely at the blood that would be spilled that night. Dressed in the all black head to toe, he raised the hood, pulling it taut and showing the piercing red eye design on each side, making him look like a demon lurking in the shadows as his own eyes were all but indistinguishable from the creeping blackness under the moonlit sky.

* * *

Windows had been smashed out, tables and chairs broken in two or splintered into innumerable pieces, and the walls and floorboards were covered in impact craters where people had been thrown, slammed or driven into with the unconscious bodies of the patrons strewn about all over the place. Amidst all of this chaos, Raine sat on her barstool, nursing a beer not even half finished, at the only piece of the bar that had somehow managed to remain intact aside from a blood smear leading to the floor where broken teeth lay free. She was teetering on her seat and cursing the brutes that interrupted her drinking. Having actually drunk enough for even her to be significantly buzzed, Raine drunkenly stood up and just about slurred to the bartender, "How much?"

The frightful bartender quickly stammered out, "N-nothing; it's on the house."

"Aren't you sweet? Now, I don't have to kick your ass, too." Raine stated with a false smile. 'But, Shaad's a different story.' she thought as she stumbled out of the destroyed bar, ready for what would be a long trip back to the hotel.

* * *

The brothel was precisely where the motel clerk said (as if he had been a frequent visitor). The two story building was quite ordinary by all accounts, distinguishable for what it was by only the irregular color of the accessories compared to the neighboring buildings and the numerous tell-tale signs if one knew what to look for. Shaad, though, wasn't sure; as far as he could tell, it was no different than any of the surrounding places aside from the tacky decorative sense of the owner and the gaudy red curtains. But, with the clerk already dead, it didn't make much difference.

For that reason, Shaad simply stood across the way from the brothel, lurking in the shadows with the hoodie hiding his features and keeping the pounding rain at bay, watching intently. After some time, the door opened slowly and a man Shaad recognized as one of the high rollers at the fights strolled out, a sloppy grin plastered on his face. Shaad thought little of it even as a petite redhead bid him adieu from the door in nothing but a silk nightgown that did near nothing to conceal her tantalizing figure underneath. But, when she turned to go back in, the brooding young captain saw it: the very same tattoo as on the women he was searching for.

Shaad pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against and headed for the inconspicuous brothel with evil intent. He was immediately greeted by a heavy musk that threatened to overwhelm him as he opened the door. Once he recovered from the olfactory sense overload of the various perfumes and scents mingling together in the establishment, Shaad opened his watery eyes and saw a woman, in her late 40's, with beautiful black and blue tresses cascading down her back and over her shoulders, teasing at the eye catching cleavage on display in the front tie bustie the woman paired with a free flowing long skirt and bicep length evening gloves, looking graceful and alluring, and far younger than her actual years.

Removing the cigarette holder from between her deep purple lipsticked lips and blowing a smoke ring around Shaad, she spoke in a thick, husky accent. "Hello, darling. What will be your pleasure tonight?"

Shaad didn't answer as his face - the hard features slick with rainwater droplets - returned to its previous intensity after the initial surprise, brushing the madam aside and heading toward the staircase, quickly noting that the two women he was looking for were not among the myriad practically laying on top of the men (and women) in the open downstairs area.

Shaad's foot was about to come down on the first step when something coiled around his neck from behind. He reached up to keep the object from constricting his windpipe while taking a step back and turning around to face the perpetrator. The madam stood facing him with a threatening smirk, a sturdy whip held taut in her hands. "Sorry sweetie, but I can't let you go up there without an invitation.

This seemed to not be an uncommon way to deal with 'uninvited' patrons as the customers around them barely glanced at the scene before returning their attentions to the pleasurable activities they'd previously been engaged in.

'I don't have time for this.' Shaad thought as he slowly approached the older woman. Using his right hand to protect his throat, he wrapped the other around the whip's length and wrenched the woman toward him with tremendous force. The madam may have been stronger than most, but she was no match for Shaad's boosted strength and was quickly taken out by the enraged pirate, being pulled into a solid clothesline without time to defend herself.

Shaad let the whip loosen around his neck and discarded it to the side, ready to head up. But, his display instilled panic in those who saw it as some of the customers ran out screaming while some were so filled with adrenaline that they dared to fight. The workers, meanwhile, either hurried to check on the madam or went straight past her to a door just past Shaad.

Shaad released a frustrated groan before moving at breakneck speed to easily dispatch those who stood against him, not holding back and feeling no remorse for those who wailed in pain from the floor, clutching broken (sometimes exposed) bones, or groaned agonizingly as blood filled their insides. When he turned around, Shaad was almost face to face with a man only about ten years his senior, holding his pants up with one hand and naked from the waist up, wearing a scowl as he glared at the troublemaker. Four completely nude women could be seen lounging and fondling each other in the long couch behind him, but the most recognizable thing about the man was by far the multi-colored spiked mohawk on his head. Shaad delivered a powerful push kick to the man's torso and was already up the stairs as he crashed through the plush couch, splitting it and burying him in the rubble of his destroyed designer furniture as the frightened women fell on top of him.

Shaad moved with purpose down the hall opening the doors along the way to search for his targets. Behind each door, he was greeted with a different visual, but none included either of the women he remembered whether it was the man sitting in the available bed with a woman on her knees between his legs while another topless woman sensuously massaged his back, the three women furiously going at it, the woman being simultaneously plowed by three men, or the man on his knees pleasuring two other men with his mouth.

'They really do serve every pleasure here,' Shaad couldn't help but think, closing another door as his frustration peaked as after five doors he'd seen a lot, but neither of whom he was searching for nor did he care to see so much of others' private lives.

Just as he was ready to simply destroy the entire building and search the wreckage, a door at the end of the hall cracked open. From behind it, a woman scanned the hall for the reason for the abrupt opening and closing doors. Even in that split second, Shaad recognized the sharp green eyes and blonde hair as she ducked back behind the door. Shaad raced down the hallway; there was a slight rustling behind the door and Shaad didn't even try to open it, bursting through and splintering the fragile wood with a full head of steam. But, all he saw was a bare leg slinking out the window just as he entered. He ran to the window and saw the two women he was after sprinting along the bundled rooftops in opposite directions.

Before he could follow, though, he was interrupted by a presence at the door. There, stood the mohawked man from before, still with an exposed torso, though he wore an open multi-colored, striped shirt and had his pants zipped up with a rope belt around the waist. Additionally, he wielded a sword in each hand, his animosity towards Shaad for the boot print that was still faintly visible on his chest reaching near palpable levels.

Shaad looked from the man to the two swords he held and a deep hatred immediately registered in his heterochromic eyes. The distinctive black and silver blades made it readily apparent that those were Shaad's prized swords. His anger blew up and he charged the man without a second thought, appearing in front of the colorful man in an instant and planting his clenched fist deep in the stranger's gut as if attempting to punch a hole through the playboy's stomach. Shaad looked down on the foe with contempt and spoke in a dark tone, showing no respect for his enemy. "Drop the swords and I'll grant you a quick death; don't, and I get to have some fun."

The next instance puzzled Shaad as a foreboding laughter bubbled past the man's lips and he slowly stood up, a smirk to his features even as a bit of blood still dribbled from the side of his mouth. "Do you know who I am? You're a dead man; I'm -" His brash boasting was cut off as Shaad nearly crushed his throat with a hard knife hand chop.

Shaad directed a cold gaze at the kneeling man, gripping him around the throat so he couldn't breath. "The fun way it is," Shaad hissed into his ear. "Let's see how long you last." The young pirate punctuated the statement by releasing the man and slamming a knee into his face.

Shaad held nothing back, but the man was no amateur, standing defiantly and angrily even as blood flowed freely from the broken nose. The man charged forward and lashed out at Shaad with his own swords. The audacity of such action only further enraged Shaad and as his anger rose so too did the strength he focused into each punch. He continued to avoid the sword slashes, but was in no mood to play defense for long, slipping past a double side swipe, ignoring the pain as both blades bit into his exposed bicep, and landing a thunderous hammer fist, further disfiguring the colorful man's formerly well defined face and launching him into an armoire against the wall. Shaad followed that up with another vicious knee, sending the man's head crashing through the armoire and the wall with no time to recover as the destroyed piece crumbled atop him.

With his upper body lolling in the hallway through the hole in the wall, Shaad reclaimed the two swords from the man's still surprisingly firm grasp and pulled him back into the room. Shaad then stabbed the man through the ankle, the pain serving to jerk him back from his fading consciousness. By stepping on the run through ankle, the man's undivided attention was immediately on Shaad, and Shaad glared down on him with a predatory gleam.

"These swords are mine," Shaad informed, stabbing the man through the hands to remind the man which swords he was talking about. "Where is the rest of my stuff."

The man was panting for breath after his pained scream finally died down. And, through the excruciating pain he managed to squeak out a response. "F-fuck you."

"Wrong answer," Shaad declared, pulling his swords from the man's hands and spinning them around, bringing them back down to cut off those hands at the wrists. "Now, why me?" He asked through the man's prolonged screams.

"You're. . . a. . . fool."

Shaad listened closely as the man croaked out the offensive retort, declaring, "Wrong," again before impaling the man just above the pelvic bone with both swords. "You're not very good at this. Why don't we try another game? If you answer any of my questions satisfactorily before my swords reach your collarbone, you win. Now, who's your boss?"

Shaad repeatedly cycled through those same three questions as he walked his swords up the man's torso at an agonizingly slow, incremental pace, twisting the blade in a full circle each time before he withdrew it.

The man was kept in a state of unimaginable agony, but despite the torturous pain, he didn't answer the questions, his high volume screams continuing on unabated. But, when Shaad finally reached just below his collarbone after what seemed like hours of unceasing torture, he'd had enough. Not wanting to know what might happen were he to _lose_ the game, the man frantically cried out to answer the simplest question and stop the brutal assault. "W-Wait, wait," he pleaded, tears of pain and distress streaming down his cheeks. "Yo- your stuff. . . is in my office. . . downstairs. Just. . . Please, stop." His pleading answer prompted Shaad to stop his swords just before he plunged them down one last time.

But, the pause was only momentary as despite the sorrowful cry, Shaad drove his swords through the man's collarbone, the sharpened blades piercing the bones without ceremony and drawing yet another anguished howl from the defeated man.

"Wh~y?" He wailed out in sputtered, garbled speech as blood completely flooded his throat and lungs.

Shaad quickly withdrew the swords and cut off the scream by cutting off the man's head. "Because you pissed me off."


	14. On Death Row

**On Death Row**

"Because you pissed me off," Shaad stated coldly, his katana dripping with the blood of the adult establishment's proprietor. Even more of the crimson liquid pooled around his feet as he stood over the headless body, eyes staring into the empty, lifeless orbs of the decapitated head with a malicious sneer.

Shaad's bloody boot prints marked his path from the upstairs room full of carnage back down the stairs and into the room the man he'd just killed had initially emerged from. The entire place was now silent and mostly empty, devoid of the lively presence it once held as only the death and destruction wreaked by Shaad remained. The main office was actually quite spacious and still in one piece save for the broken couch. As he looked around, Shaad noted that everything, from the desk off to the side and the large bookshelf against the wall to the chaise lounge situated across the room, was of the highest quality of worksmanship and made with only top of the line materials and woods. In addition to a gaudy flair for the dramatic, the now dead man apparently also possessed an affinity for the extravagant and exquisite, though the room seemed strangely scarce of small, valuable items and trinkets.

Shaad crossed around the ornately designed desk with slow, deliberate steps, surveying the loose papers and booklets strewn messily across the desktop. A slender, silver chain hanging along the worn bindings of a little leather bound black book caught Shaad's eye. Pulling on the chain, he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was his pendant. The discovery led him to open the booklet to the page it was being used to bookmark. There, among the messy, scribbled handwriting, the young captain was able to make out an itemized lists of his stolen property, including his clothes. While his clothes had already been crossed out, possibly trashed, his swords and sheath were marked with checkmarks while the pendant Shaad had once again placed securely around his neck was identified with an X and what amounted to an insanely low beli amount, most likely it's perceived worth; Shaad's belongings truly bookended the spectrum from near worthless to keep instead of sell with nothing in between. Closing the booklet, he placed it and a much sturdier looking book into pockets along the leg of the black pants he'd earlier appropriated with the thought, 'These could prove useful.'

Once that was done, Shaad was happy to see his sheath slung on the back of the high backed, plush office chair behind the desk and let a satisfied smile grace his lips at not only having found most of his stolen items, but not having to go through with the extremely unpleasant task of hunting down every person that had escaped the building that night to reclaim his property from looters, a thought that had briefly floated his venturous mind. Still, though, with his temper settled for the moment, he opened the armoire situated directly behind the desk in hopes of finding a leftover valuable that would appease Raine's animosity toward him, though the glass door upper half showed no such promise. Opening the lower doors - brute strength overcoming the simple lock - Shaad bore witness to a multitude of jewel encrusted accessories, but most striking was a black, blue, and gold fabergé egg with a design reminiscent of a large ship against the fierce gale of a starry night with daybreak on the horizon, all being engulfed by its base - the threatening, looming tentacles of a black kraken. The object provided Shaad a shocking reminder of his motivation: returning home in order to finally confront his father and crush his lingering demons.

As he further inspected the various pieces, an annoying ringing ripped his attentions away from the valuable collection. Ring-ring-ring. Shaad traced the noise to a den den mushi tucked away in the lower right hand drawer of the desk, letting it continue ringing as he contemplated what to do. Eventually he reached for the receiver, lifting it but not saying a word as a flustered and demanding voice echoed from the other end, the den den mushi portraying a grim expression and a scowl. "Rooster, why have one of your whores come rushing here screaming bloody murder!? There's only one reason a whore should be panting like a dog. . . and she doesn't look well fucked to me."

Shaad then heard the exhausted, timid voice of a woman pipe in through periods of sucking in lungfuls of air. "A-a-attack. . . S-struck. . . the madam. . . Tried. . . to kill. . . me."

"Kill?" Shaad drawled in a questioning manner at the implication, making it clear that it was not 'Rooster' they were talking to. He spoke slowly and almost playfully as he continued. "I only wanted to. . . show my appreciation for the lesson you and your friend taught me about securing my property. But, you both ran off before I could. Apologies if I went about it a tad. . . _aggressively_ ; if you'll tell me where you are, I can make up for that missed opportunity."

Shaad heard the young woman begin to panic before she was pushed away from the receiver, the den den mushi mimicking the change in expressions as the primary speaker switched back to the cold, deep voice from before. "Who are you and where's Rooster?" the voice demanded.

"Well. . . Rocket, Rodent, or whatever's head is probably still rolling from the _gratitude_ I showed him," Shaad nonchalantly informed, the thinly veiled insinuation instantly understood by both of the people on the other end. "As for my name. . . I would tell you, but it's rude to ask someone's name without first introducing yourself, but frankly I don't care who you are."

The man on the other end obviously had experience dealing with brash and confident individuals as he didn't miss a beat in his response. "Well," he spoke contemplatively, "I was going to invite you here, where we would be waiting to return your gratitude tenfold, but if you don't want to know my name, then I take it that means your thanks was simply lip service. Otherwise you're free to thank the boss personally and in return we'll teach you another life lesson."

Shaad cracked a challenging smirk, relayed by the den den mushi on the other end, at the enticing provocation. He paused to mull over the declaration before speaking calmly and in warning. "I only came to reclaim what is mine; with it back, my anger is mostly sated. . . But if you wish to call it forward again, I'm sure there's plenty left over. Just know, what has been pushed down once cannot be held back a second time; rage, like an uneven blade swung by a giant, may cut roughly, may cut smoothly, but it will cut through. With that said. . . please, do tell."

"Good. I'm -"

"Though," Shaad interrupted, "l still don't care who you are. I'll kill you, the girl, and anyone else who stands in my way."

* * *

A busty blonde ran through the city's back streets as fast as she could. There was no sign of anyone pursuing her which meant the young man she'd helped to drug and rob was most likely after her partner. Still, though, they had planned to rally together in order to ambush any pursuant threat. She'd finally reached the designated spot, her bountiful chest rising and falling with each deep breath from how much she'd exerted herself. The fact that she'd arrived first wasn't much of a surprise. Despite the toned, dancer's body, her partner didn't have much in the way of stamina. It was one of the reasons the two worked so well together; in addition to the obvious contrasts, the blonde had a voracious sexual appetite and could go all night whereas her raven haired friend, was usually through after one good round.

"Waiting for someone," a soft voice asked from behind her.

She was bent over still trying to right her breathing as she waited. Upon hearing the voice, she immediately spun around on her heel as she responded. "Wow; that was. . . Who -"

Her words were cut short by a strong hand clamping down over her mouth, eyes widening from the surprise and the skinny, weasel faced man eyeing her ravenously as he toyed with the stiletto switchblade in his hands. She resisted frantically, squirming for all she was worth trying to escape, while the man hummed a sing-song tune, a cheshire cat smile on his thin lips as two others appeared beside him: a suave looking man in oversized sunglasses, a rabbit skin trilby, and a mink fur coat on his shoulders along with an attractive female with dangerous curves and an even more threatening demeanor.

The woman spoke first, her voice an irritated growl - "You cost us everything; you and that bitch partner of yours," - before the well-dressed man accompanying her piped in as well.

"After you two seduced our captain and had him killed, we lost it all, even the ship was taken from under us. What good is a black market merchant with no ship?"

"You will pay for your misdeeds, harlot."

"I'm going to rape your every orifice with this knife," the slender man threatened in a low, sinister tone, a creepy glee showing in his mocking smile as he brandished the full length of the six inch blade for her to see as he continued on, "before disemboweling and dismembering you as painfully and slowly as possible. Before your final screams die out, then, I'll have my turn with what's left."

"I know we've all long fantasized about what we'd do if given the chance for revenge - and with that fool brazenly attacking the Black Mafia Family, we finally have our chance - but she's worth more alive than dead."

The haunting smile of the sadistic necrophiliac faded slightly at the disclosure, and at the same time, a wave of relief presumptuously washed over the captive escort. But, both reactions were short lived as the chiseled, athletic man once again continued for her. "You seem to enjoy selling your body for the pleasure of men and women alike; we'll see how much you like it when we sell your _everything_ to the highest bidder."

"All we have to do is carve that wretched brand off your back and you'll be a slave for the rest of your miserable life."

"And the best part about it is all the blame will lie with that newcomer. They'll probably kill him and enslave that woman he came here with."

* * *

A black bird cawed from high in a towering tree. The sound traveled far and wide, blending seamlessly with nature's other nighttime noises in the Upper East Side. The Upper East was largely quiet outside those sounds; unlike the unruly individuals and mass chaos of the Lower East Side, the Upper East was far more orderly with a certain classical elegance about it. But, the Upper East was less a district or borough of Blackwood and more its own private community, a sprawling compound that stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions.

Shaad strolled up to the front entrance, easily visible in the moonlight, with his swords already drawn.

"Look what we have here," a gruff voice called out as he pointed to the approaching Shaad.

"Who would be fool enough to come here," his partner questioned with confidence.

"I don't know, but the boss told us he'd invited some idiot tonight."

"To think he'd actually show; he must be a fool of epic proportions."

"Just stick to the plan. The boss won't accept failure."

"I know; I don't get why we're putting all this towards one man, though. The fact he killed Rooster makes him stupid not a threat."

The two guards quietly conversed outside the compound's main gate even as Shaad drew closer. They each thought little of the young pirate but were well trained enough to keep a hand on the weapons hidden inside their jackets nonetheless, arms crossed to make the action as inconspicuous as possible. Once Shaad was within speaking range, the more belligerent of the two let his disdain be known. "You're a fool to come here. There are easier ways to die, but now you've doomed anyone who knows you."

Shaad ignored the threat and commanded, "Open the gate and get out of my way; I'm in no mood to waste energy on two idiots."

The guards bristled at Shaad's tone and gripped their weapons tighter, though still kept their composure. They were far more worried of their own superior's wrath than cutting out one loose tongue; the exchange was simply not worth it. So, they swallowed their frustrations and opened the gate behind them just wide enough for Shaad to slip through without another word. Shaad moved between them, feeling the heat of their gazes as he had to turn his body to get between the two beefy men.

When Shaad made it through the crack in the heavy gate, he was hardly surprised by the sight that awaited him. Before him stood almost thirty men in identical suits with various firearms all aimed at him and ready. He didn't bother to look back, knowing it was a trap even before he heard the gates slam shut behind him. However, even without turning around he was aware and prepared enough to flip his swords and drive them through the two stunned guards as they attacked from behind, machetes dropping lazily from their raised arms.

With those two already killed, the numerous men before him as well as the cannoneer tucked away atop the gate all opened fire. In that instant, though, Shaad had disappeared, leaving the two guards' bodies to be riddled with bullet holes and even suffer a cannonball explosion to the back. Shaad reappeared on top of the gate, crouched on the cannon's barrel and leveling a chilling stare at the cannoneer. Before the large man's focused expression could even shift to one of fear or dismay, his head was separated from his shoulders by Shaad's crossing blades. And with a graceful backflip, Shaad landed in the center of the gun toting ambush group, switching to a traditional grip of his swords while dropping into a crouched fighting stance.

The simultaneous clang of each of the suited men's guns dropping to the ground filled the air as they each pulled out a close range weapon of their own, the prominent choices being machetes, pipes and knuckle duster knives. In unison, the mob converged on the lone intruder, weapons raised and ready. Shaad sucked in a deep breath, clenching his swords tighter and twisting with all his might as he bellowed, **"Rise of Evil!"** With wide, arcing swings, he brought his two swords around and up, conjuring such a powerful, slicing vortex of wind that all of the men surrounding him were lifted from the ground, their helpless bodies flailing as the slicing winds cut into them viciously and relentlessly. But, Shaad's attack wasn't through yet as he flipped the direction of his swords' blades, retracing the flow of his previous swing in reverse. And, with another rise in his voice, called, **"Fall of Man."** As if gravity had suddenly been cut back on and increased, the fierce winds reversed, slamming the unfortunate victims into the ground with bone jarring force, creating craters, shattering bones, and causing some to cough up blood as the full weight of the attack bared down, adding to the external damage with severe internal damage and crushing contusions.

Shaad immediately fell to a knee, chest rising and falling with strained effort as he attempted to stabilize his breathing, joined only by the carefree breeze blowing through the field of dead and near dead around him. He stayed like that for a few minutes, listening as the number of pained coughs slowly died down, before picking himself up, the inflamed voice in his head riling him further. 'We don't have time for this. This level will have to do.' With that thought, Shaad trudged on, his anger boiling beneath the surface as he continued, ready as he could be given the circumstances, to face what lay ahead.

Meanwhile, perched quietly in the darkness above, beady, red eyes peered down ominously, overseeing his approach. A single, monstrous looking raven lurked in the shadows of a building's high roof, hidden by its own ebony plumage, its four solid eyes following Shaad before it cocked its head and released a silent caw, revealing what looked to be a human eye lodged deep in its throat, the hidden eye blinking creepily as Shaad stepped to the undamaged doors leading to the inner sanctum of the compound, before flying away using its four powerful wings.


	15. By Any Means

**A/N: I'm back. And, during this break I got this extra long chapter ready. I couldn't find a good place to split it into two chapters so. . . Happy New Year. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **By Any Means:**

 **Win or Lose, I'll Give My All**

Shaad roughly stepped over the carnage he'd wrought, crushing the weakened, cracked bones under his heel as he brought a foot down on the soft, red dirt below him. The dismantled and disfigured carcasses of his slain victims littering his path alongside the combined wreckage wreaked on nature and the structures surrounding them created a haunting scene, but Shaad felt no remorse for his actions, maintaining his stone-like composure as he moved through in search of his true target.

The method was simple, if not utterly stupid, as Shaad merely followed the line of enemies, figuring where they converged was the path to the leader's dwelling. When a few would jump in his path or attempt to eliminate him from cover with well-placed shots, he responded accordingly, striking them down without the slightest hint of emotion behind his cold, focused eyes, staring ahead in both the figurative and literal sense as yet more enemies would soon join their compatriots in the cold embrace of death.

Stabbing his jet black blade through the throat of yet another suited minion, letting the body crumple to the floor, Shaad continued to march through the streets of the massive, sprawling complex, an irritated frown affixed to his face as he turned a corner where hundreds of men in suits awaited him between the long, level buildings extending along the entire path.

'We must be in the barracks,' the voice in his head snidely remarked.

'Then we're close.' Shaad thought, his eyes staring at the open space past the group, all of them already dead as far as he was concerned.

Shaad strode along calmly, an eerie tune reminiscent of light knocking following him as he let his swords jostle languidly along the cobblestone road. He paid the myriad of weapons being trained on him no mind, a maniacal grin crossing his lips as he spoke - somewhat to himself - with an absent, hollow ring. "Do you hear that? Knocking. But, if you keep knocking. . ." Shaad's voice trailed off. He raised his swords high, touching the blades' tips at the peak of his extension before slowly bringing them down, spreading the blades in an arc as if tracing the frame of a giant door around him. With a blade fully extended to each side, Shaad let his swords drop into a reverse grip and drove them into the ground, taking a half step forward as his voice once again reached out in that same haunting chill. "If you keep knocking. . . the door might open. **Death's Door!** " Shaad's voice rose in time with him yanking his swords from the ground and disappearing just as the bone chilling knocking finally ceased. Before the huge group of enemies could even react, Shaad was behind them, his swords held confidently at his sides. After a few seconds, with a quiet whisper of **"Outreach of the Unforgiving,"** from Shaad, a sudden, slicing force of highly intense power tore through the ranks with an unbelievable ferocity. The raw power ripped through each of the men in gruesome fashion, sending them collapsing to the ground as little more than shredded husk. Just as the attack waned, Shaad nearly fell to his knees, using his swords to just barely catch himself in time before pushing himself up to full height after only a single deep breath.

Shaad briefly glanced over his shoulder, letting his eyes rove over the sea of dead foes before he caught sight of a single man, clothing in tatters, trembling in the center of it all, wielding barely raised dual saw toothed machetes. Shaad released a frustrated groan at the man's presence, somehow still standing amidst all the chaos. In an instant, he twirled around, crossing his two swords in front of him in threatening and preparatory fashion as he approached the man.

The man backed away slowly, holding the savage looking machetes feebly between him and the approaching threat as he tried to put his back against a wall to keep his trembling legs from toppling him. Even then, he attempted to bluff his way out of the bleak situation with a threat, failing miserably as his voice shook almost as much as his blades. "B-Back off. . . I-It's not too late to -"

The man's plea was cut off by Shaad, the emotionless, almost ethereal, quality of his voice sending the man stumbling backwards in fear where he was caught by the outside wall of one of the barracks. "Oh, but it is; it's far too late."

The frightened underling was only vaguely aware enough to lift his weapons up in defense, though even the solid steel of the blades did nothing to protect him from Shaad's unhinged wrath as the ruthless youth gripped the two dissimilar swords and slashed out with them at point blank range. The aftermath was total evisceration; only the man's lower legs were left intact with the right calf and leg having fallen over, situated before the destroyed remnants of sections of two separate barracks. Hearing a light stream splashing onto the pavement, Shaad turned his eyes and caught sight of another man he'd missed with his initial attack, though this time the fresh wet streak running down the leg of the man's suit marked him as no threat. As if to reinforce the idea he let his gun, which had previously been directed at Shaad clang harmlessly to the ground.

Turning his focus back to the first man's remains and the newly created shortcut, Shaad waded through the wreckage and rubble. 'Two birds, one stone; now to find the main house.' Shaad continued down the debris laden pathway, extending the impromptu route as necessary. The fact that anyone who might have stood in his way going this direction was unceremoniously crushed under the debris of his renovations provided him brief respite on the rare occasions he'd stop to alter his heading slightly.

A short while later, Shaad, who had just punched a hole through an extra thick, reinforced wall - bruising his knuckles slightly in the process - clamored through the human sized hole into a wide clearing with two rows of finely maintained shrubbery sheared into the shapes of various wildlife and even a couple of people at the head of each row. Opening his eyes to the entire scene, Shaad was once again faced with a large group of suited men each pointing a gun at him, though something seemed different, more advanced, about the guns they carried this time. Also unlike the first two groups, these men were all very highly trained; too well trained to fire blindly and at random, where he could vanish amidst the commotion, and skilled enough to not give him the extra half second it would take to run them all through. Shaad had to make his first move count or he'd be riddled with enough bullets to sink him. Of course, he could probably run, but that wasn't an option as his pulsing rage prompted him to finish stepping through the hole in the wall, completely exposing himself to the enemy. As he did so, Shaad scanned over the crowd, counting almost 100 men gathered in the immaculate courtyard and taking note of their twitchy trigger fingers and the grand two story palace behind them. 'This is the place.' That much was clear, but it would take quite the gamble to advance any further than he'd already made it.

Shaad slowly lifted his right foot as if to move forward, looking over the armed group for signs of attack. He'd already taken the chance that they wouldn't shoot him as soon as he'd moved, a mistake they would soon regret. Focusing his energy and strength into that foot, Shaad prepared to bring it down along with the entire area. Lifting up on the toes of his left foot, he crashed his right into the ground with tremendous force, - **"Revenge of the Damned"** \- the impact causing a crater with small cracks in the ground expanding a few inches in every direction, but no large scale destruction. . . until fissures suddenly started appearing across the area, pieces of earth shot up, and the entire ground shook, collided, and separated all at once within the limited space. It was impossible to maintain footing among the large horde as the ground shifted to and fro sending men sprawling onto the ground or jetting into the sky like ragdolls. Some simply fell into the abyss of the suddenly created canyons never to be seen again or barely kept from such a fate with a strong grip on the canyon's edge only to be crushed as the ground tossed and turned again, sliding together and apart, closing once wide gaps and opening new ones in a constant extreme fluctuation of the courtyard's geography and landscape.

Shaad wasn't satisfied, though, with just creating a stumbling block for the most part. He swiftly unsheathed the swords on his back, striking the ground to thunderous effect before any of his targets had time to recover. The sudden and precise influx of such a massive amount of energy deep below the Earth's surface sparked a volatile reaction, sending copious amounts of scalding hot steam and water vapors erupting from the numerous openings Shaad's first strike created. There was no escape as everything within the designated area of the attack was engulfed in the blistering temperatures of the assaulting gases. The men, trapped inside the thickening white cloud by the suddenly altered and wildly uneven terrain, could only struggle helplessly as their skin blistered heavily and they were either burned completely alive or, at the least, irreversibly scarred with second and third degree burns.

Shaad used an arm to shield himself from the overbearing heat, and as the ear-splitting screams finally died down, he picked up his swords in a reverse grip and cleared the wafting remnants with a few powerful strokes. Holding the blades parallel along his arms, Shaad waded through the disturbing scene towards the small staircase leading into the grand center of the entire fortress, the bottoms of the stolen black boots he wore permanently red from the blood and flesh that had soaked into the material thus far on that night.

The destruction of the courtyard stopped just short of the five stairs leading into the main house. Arriving at the base of those stairs, Shaad admired the statuettes greeting him from atop the handrails: eastern dragons with a clawed front foot threatening to crush the golden skull beneath them. Shaad spared one last, brief glance behind him at the pain and suffering, death and destruction, he'd been the harbinger of before grasping the ornate handles and entering the wooden door. "If I'd been at full strength from the start, I could've sunk this entire place," Shaad muttered to himself while wearing a deep scowl as he opened the last boundary between him and the ultimate target of his newfound rage.

"I take it you're the boss," Shaad stated in a rough tone, looking on at the stone faced, bald man in a navy pinstripe suit that did little to hide his bursting muscles beneath.

Nor did it hide the fingerless, plate metal bracers extending from under the sleeves of his shirt onto the backs of his hands as he flexed them threateningly, speaking in a low growl Shaad recognized from the den den mushi at the brothel. "I'm impressed you made it this far. Tell me, how many men did you kill to get here?"

"I lost count," Shaad answered honestly. "Far more than needed to die tonight."

"Don't tell me you feel sorry for them. The night's still young, foolish boy." As he spoke those ominous words, two hidden doors opened at the rear of the room. From them, six like dressed men entered. Instead of suits, though, these men each wore the kimono and hakama typical of samurai complete with wooden sandals and a katana at their hip. Each had their hair in a topknot, but their faces were hidden behind the white tiger masks they all wore.

Shaad eyed them with contempt as they filed in before fixing a glare directly at the leader in a suit, the satisfied smirk he wore irking Shaad to no end. "Even now, you merely throw more bodies at the problem. Is that all you can do?"

The man's smirk only grew at the clear hatred in Shaad's voice, replying with a haughty confidence as he returned Shaad's intense glare. "These men are far more than mere bodies. They are the Capo Elites; each of them is worth a 100 of those gun toting morons outside."

"So, 600 more bodies and a giant ass. Here's your one way tickets to the slaughterhouse," Shaad declared with an arrogant smirk, crossing his arms and swords in front of him in a double reverse grip. But, despite the confident words and demeanor, Shaad knew they were empty. He was nearly at his limit and no matter how much posturing he did, defeating the seven men that stood before him would most likely take more than he had left.

Shaad had long been a proponent of the best defense is a great offense, and with that mindset he charged the three masked samurai lined up to his right, pushing the front man into the two in back before immediately spinning around to block a strike from behind. He was forced to make a hasty retreat when three of the remaining four converged from all around.

Shaad's father had taught him that a warrior's mettle and training were revealed when pressured, rarely otherwise. That lesson persisted in the back of his head as he tossed aside the lone samurai left to pursue him before using his superior agility to resume his attack on the rest, hoping that he could wound at least some of them. But, instead of fleeing, four of the five came together to block his powerful slashes, keeping him occupied while the fifth circled around his left and attacked from a blind spot. Shaad expected the attack, though, and twisted to avoid it, letting the sword tangle with the clash he already had going before sending the lot of them scrambling backwards with a sudden, twisting outward push. The force of the counter turned him around just in time to see the sword of the one he'd avoided earlier come slicing in at him. He only had time to avoid a fatal strike, wincing in pain as the sharp metal cut into his cheek and just under his ear, and used the following opportunity to create distance and regroup.

In the split second breather he was allotted, Shaad flipped his pristine silver bladed sword upright in his hand while the jet black blade remained in a reverse grip, pushing off the ground and propelling himself forward in order to maintain whatever pressure he could. As the flow of the battle devolved into a series of him attacking only to quickly be put on the defensive by one of the other fighters attacking from behind before eventually losing all offensive momentum entirely, he figured out that their tactics revolved around using speed and numbers to overwhelm opponents and swiftly strike from blind spots. Knowing that, though, did nothing to change the fact that it took his total effort just to defend against the constant onslaught coming from every direction.

While Shaad's technical training may have been equal to if not greater than theirs and his speed and strength were surely superior, he clearly lacked the energy and stamina to fully showcase his advantages. The masked samurai attacked him in rapid succession, dashing in and out one after the other so he couldn't turn the tables on any one or get into any kind of a rhythm. Shaad's disorientation was clearly growing as a greater frequency of attacks broke through his defense. Taking advantage of his off balance state, the six swordsmen showed off their experience together as a unit by wordlessly implementing a new attack strategy. The six nearly identical men fell in line and ran towards Shaad in perfect unison.

Shaad, who was dazed on his feet from the energy shortage and the combined effects of the attacks he'd suffered, watched as the six men merged into one in his vision and charged him. As they came into range, he braced himself, prepared to defend and counter. But, without attacking, the first in line dashed away to the left - jumping up and past Shaad - followed by the second man throwing a feint, just as Shaad brought his eyes back around, before doing the same as the first man, only to the right. Shaad turned back around faster this time, and only followed the third man, low and to the left, with his peripheral vision as the fourth came upon him. There was less than a split second between each of them, and Shaad had thought he'd caught on to the pattern when the fourth, going low and to the right, cut deeply into his thigh. Wounded, he braced himself for the next in line and was once again distracted by the masked man jumping above him like a pouncing tiger. Only his instincts screaming at him to pay attention in front brought his eyes down in time to see a sword about to impale him through the chest. Even with two swords, there was no room or time for Shaad to react as the blade proceeded without obstruction, soon joined by the five blades of the man's partners, all intent on killing him.

But, in that fraction of a second, Shaad had disappeared, a small scar on the center of his chest showing how close he came to being skewered alive as he reappeared behind the group on one knee and panting heavily.

'Stop playing around. We need to finish this.'

'Playing? I'm about to die here.'

'Then, go faster. Be stronger.'

'I - I don't have the energy to spare.'

'Wow, you're stupid. Don't spare any. Two bursts; one for them, and one for him,' Even in Shaad's head, the word _him_ sounding with a sneer.

'My body-'

'Better than dead.'

Shaad's attentions were brought back to reality by the six masked men encircling him, swords at the ready. The situation looked bleak as he struggled to control his breathing, but the short internal conversation did give him an idea. Using his swords to raise himself to his feet, Shaad took a deep breath, flexing and rolling the muscles of his body. Deciding to lay it all out, Shaad launched himself forward before any of his opponents could react. **"Cross Cleaver,"** he called, lowering himself even more as he charged with his swords trailing behind. The man easily evaded Shaad's attack, jumping over the swishing blades, but Shaad simply smirked as he followed the man into the air, bringing the blades back for the man's neck this time. The blades bit into the warrior's muscled neck but were halted by the raised sword between the two. Shaad wasted no time in applying an even greater pressure, sending cracks spreading through the steel of his foe's katana. But, lacking the time to finish the deed as another came up behind him, Shaad sent the wounded man careening into one of the thick, sturdy walls with a bone-crushing downward kick to the neck. With one stuck firmly in the wall, Shaad focused on the second, rapidly approaching obstacle. Using the momentum of the kick to twist his entire body around, he swung his sword with unfathomable power, considering he had no leverage in midair, and clashed with the rising swordsman. The two were near evenly matched, but with a sudden burst of strength, Shaad sent the larger man barreling into the wooden flooring below before landing softly on his own feet.

There was no time to waste as he immediately rushed a third member of the group, dropping his center of gravity as if for 'Cross Cleaver' before disappearing in an instant, reappearing in front of the swordsman's face and driving both knees into the masked fighter's chest while he simultaneously brought his swords around and stabbed them into the man's back. Letting the body fall, Shaad planted his feet on the floor just as two others simultaneously attacked from behind him. Again, Shaad was gone as they struck out with their katana, adopting their strategy as he charged them from behind. They quickly figured his location, though, both turning around in time to confront his wide strikes. His strength split between two foes, Shaad drove his blades at a slight downward angle and, with an incredible surge, pushed his way through, but his attack was redirected and only sliced the inside hip of each man. That was enough to slip between the two, though, and, before either could turn again to face him, drive his swords behind him and through the two men. But, unbeknownst to him, his strikes were once again diverted, this time by the short swords each man kept hidden on his back, sending Shaad's blades through a meatier portion of the torso where bleeding occurred more slowly and didn't inhibit movement like a snapped spine.

Shaad allowed a smirk to cross his lips as he felt the flow of air in the room change slightly. The last of the swordsmen was charging him from behind at breakneck speed, noticeably faster than any of them had moved thus far. But, that didn't matter; regardless how fast the man moved, Shaad was faster, and he was ready to show it as he turned and rushed to meet the man head on. Shaad intercepted his opponent quicker than the man could've imagined, unleashing a devastating right punch as the two crossed. Shaad felt the durability of the white tiger mask give beneath his fist and followed through until the man's forward momentum had been stopped completely and he was sent sailing backwards. His body came down and ground through the room's flooring until he came to a stop in the wall near the suited man Shaad was intent on killing.

Even with all six of the swordsmen down, the suited man still wore a confident smirk while it took a good deal of Shaad's own energy just to remain standing with a semi-confident smirk of his own. The reason for the man's confidence was soon clear as what remained of the mask on Shaad's most recent victim crumbled and fell away, revealing a pair of dead, soulless eyes and distressed veins bulging from the skin. At the same time, each of the downed warriors slowly dragged themselves to their feet and lumbered to surround Shaad just as they had earlier. The tiger masks had also fallen off the first two he'd knocked aside. And, just like the last, their eyes and veins were in the same condition, Shaad noting the dilated pupils and bloodshot state of the disconcerting orbs. They'd obviously been drugged, likely willingly as the drug seemed to deaden the pain senses (explaining why they could all even stand after the crippling shots Shaad had delivered) and increase strength while allowing for at least marginal mental functions including free thought and strategy.

Shaad's heart sank upon realizing it'd be impossible for him to defeat the six swordsmen and the suited man with his depleted energy levels and the emotion briefly shown on his face, only furthering the satisfaction evident on his main target's features. At seeing that condescending, snide smirk, Shaad came to a decision: if he couldn't take out all of them, he'd be sure to bring down the leader with every bit of energy he had left. And, with his mind set, Shaad sheated his silver blade and burst forth, ignoring the six drugged flunkies, and aiming straight for the head of the snake. With a fierce roar, Shaad was upon the man, black blade raised high above him.

But, the man reacted in an instant, bringing his metal guarded hands clamping down on the blade of Shaad's sword, catching it before it cut him in two. As Shaad increased the strength and pressure of the attack he did the same with his defense, his suit top and dress shirt literally exploding off of him as his bulging, inflated muscles were put on full display in the struggle of life and death. Against all odds, though, Shaad's blade steadily drew closer and he was pushed back until his heels pressed against the solid wall to his back. Clenching his teeth and flexing the solid muscles of his arms to a new level, the commanding man pushed back against Shaad, bringing their epic clash to a fierce stalemate as neither side could glean the advantage.

Shaad's gritted teeth and focused expression matched his adversary's as they struggled against one another. Shaad continued pressing down and was lucky none of the swordsmen had interfered to this point, but even with that positive, he knew his energy was completely exhausted as the older man began pushing him back, an evil gleam in the man's smile. 'Don't spare anything!' That thought flashed across Shaad's mind just as he was ready to give up, but, with a loud, jarring yell, he managed to engulf his opponent in a powerful slash that seemed cloaked in a violent, forward blasting explosion making Shaad's eyes widen in surprise as the man was sent barreling backwards through the solid wall and into a hidden room, but he allowed himself a moment of peace and satisfaction, a happy smile gracing his lips, as he saw the man's body come to a stop, cut and emanating smoke as if burned.

Shaad then landed on weak, wobbly legs, barely able to manage standing as the floor seemed unsteady and his vision blinked in and out, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell unconscious, crashing to the floor in the deepest midst of enemy territory.


	16. Death

**Death:**

 **A Decision**

( _...but not yours_ )

"Bring him here," a low voice commanded from the recesses of the newly uncovered chamber, the tone quiet and almost weak, but with a deep timbre that called for nothing short of absolute compliance.

Shaad was completely unresponsive as the six drugged swordsman he'd previously grievously wounded picked up his limp body and carried him into the large hidden cavern where the mysterious, haunting echo originated from. Head hanging idly, he couldn't hear the noiseless murmurs being exchanged over his pliable form or see as the man he'd assumed to be the leader stood up, brushing himself free of the dirt and debris that had collected on top of him after Shaad's final attack with a sneer before dropping to a knee and bowing his head in the direction of the authoritative voice, silent and complicit even as Shaad was dragged over by him.

With an order to rise from the as yet unseen figure, the man then turned his gaze over to the fallen young fighter and donned a condescending smirk as the boy's obvious last ditch attack merely left him with a single scar running off center down his torso and a few minor scratches and bruises marring the solid muscle of his chiseled chest and sculpted arms.

"Is this him?" the masculine voice questioned. The owner of which seemed to be a frail, weakened old man covered in an oversized cloak that seemed to engulf his small frame, his spindly limbs making him look more like a fleshy sack of bones than a feared faction leader, even with a gorgeous woman, dressed in what constituted little more than a loincloth, flanking him on either side. However, the eerie tune created as his inch long fingernails, peeking from underneath the sleeves of his cloak, rapped on the armrest of his simple, yet elegant, throne in impatience - the same BM logo as was on the women's backs embroidered onto the seat - as well as the sharp glare that struck out from beneath the cowl of the hood belied the image of an old man approaching death as did the cusped falchion leaning against the seat.

"Yes, that's him," a soft female voice hesitantly responded as the brunette who'd been complicit in stealing Shaad's things stepped from the shadow of the enigmatic leader's high-backed throne. "That's the man that killed Rooster."

The old man's deep inset eyes stared at the unconscious Shaad as if trying to discern the young man's entire history though all he saw was the back of the pirate's drooping head. Several tense seconds passed as his gaze lingered on the helpless youth before he finally spoke again with one direct command. "Wake him."

At those words, two of the still masked warriors grabbed one of Shaad's arms each and hoisted his upper body up while the presumed vice-leader grabbed his chin in a strong hand and looked down at him with a combination of contempt, admiration, and disgust. "Nap time's over," the muscled man mocked before roughly twisting Shaad's head and slugging him across the jaw with a solid cross. When Shaad showed no reaction, the second-in-command delivered another stinging blow across his face, followed by another, and another, and another, at increasingly shortened intervals until the leader's frail but powerful voice demanded the punishment cease.

"Stop. At this rate, he'll die before he wakes up; I want him awake first." Even as his chilling voice spoke such harsh words, the aged leader lifted a bony finger in a silent command.

Almost immediately, another tanned girl wearing nothing but a small loincloth covering her privates ran up beside him with a bowl of powerful smelling chips and shavings submerged in an aromatic liquid and covered with a thin rag. "The hartshorn, Master."

"Good; place it before our guest."

Just as the bowl was placed on the floor in front of Shaad, his head was shoved down into the concoction, only the small rag keeping him from drowning as the heady scent invaded his nasal passages and lungs and breathed life into his weary, worn body.

Shaad's eyes gradually opened to a sloshing blackness as he opened his mouth and struggled to draw breath through the wet rag that filled it. He struggled against the force holding his head down, but he was far too weak, only able to squirm in futile resistance. With his vision fading to a darker, more solid black and the inability to draw in fresh air, Shaad began to feel as if he'd been revived only to be killed. It wasn't until he started sputtering for breath into the ammonia laced liquid that he felt a hand yank his head back where he greedily sucked in lungfuls of air, the deep burning in his nasal cavity and lungs a secondary concern as he feasted on precious oxygen. He was still breathing in deep, ragged breaths when his eyes finished adjusting to the light in the room, and once he was able to make out distinct figures, the first thing his eyes settled on was the raven haired ebony female. Immediately recognizing her, a fierce scowl took hold of Shaad's features as he glared at her, too weak to do anything more. But, as his eyes shifted to the right, it took all of his self-control not to shrink at the deep set, imposing eyes staring back at him from under the dark brown cloak.

It was then that Shaad became aware of the hands pressing down on his shoulders while simultaneously holding his slack body up. Shirking under the weight of the pressure, Shaad noted the masked men bearing down over each shoulder. But, an unparalleled rage flashed in his eyes at the sight of the man he'd previously assumed to be the leader, standing obstinately (albeit with clear reverence to his present superior) in only the dress pants of his previous three piece suit and suspenders stretched over his broad, only slightly scarred, chest. It was hard to tell which was more upsetting to Shaad - the fact that the man was still alive or how relatively little Shaad's desperate last attack actually did - but his attentions were immediately yanked elsewhere as the obvious leader and elder spoke to him in a low, bone chilling voice.

"You're young and foolish enough to attack the Black Mafia Family," he stated with a fair bit of scorn. "How'd you like to come work for me. There's always room for someone as fearless as yourself, provided that fearlessness has limits. . . and you're willing to atone for your misdeeds."

Shaad chuckled lightly, letting his head fall forward to obscure the demented smirk he wore. "Fearless," he questioned. "I'm scared shitless right now. . . But, even so, I'd never join you."

"Why you little -" The shirtless second reached out to strangle Shaad, and the brash pirate was powerless to resist as the pair of strong hands locked thick fingers around his throat.

"Stop." The authoritative command halted the second before he could begin wringing out Shaad's neck, and Shaad gave a defiant smirk at his fortune before the leader declared, "If not fearless, that leaves one option: completely stu-"

"Mad," Shaad interrupted. "Mad at being toyed with by the little girl on your side and her friend. Mad at being stripped, drugged, and robbed. And pissed off at having two goons sent to kill me. But, I dealt with all that when I found the guy that sent 'em, your boy. . . Rat, Rudy, whatever. I wanted the girls, but I could settle for him; I was sated. Your mans here, though," Shaad declared, motioning his head to the muscled man on his right as he continued, "that wasn't enough for him. He riled me up and invited me to take a shot for the top - which I thought was him. After all that, it'd be rude of me not to come, especially when the opportunity for closure was so close at hand." Shaad's last sentence was heavy with sincere sarcasm, but the leader remained unresponsive, listening closely as Shaad finished his tale.

"Is that true," were his only words, speaking to no one in particular but, at the same time, everyone involved. The ensuing combination of awkward silence and wary expressions gave him his answer, and his response was straightforward and succinct. "I'll take care of mine, but you must pay for your crimes as well." His voice then took on a new energy as he lifted his frail body upright and added, "As a special prize, I'll show you why you aren't scared enough."

With those words, the leader reached a bony hand under the folds of his cloak and withdrew a small plastic baggie that contained a white powder substance. Using one of his razor like nails, he then cut an opening into the baggie and ripped the sleeve covering his resting arm before spreading the baggie's contents on his arm in a fine line, specks of light blue twinkling in the pristine powder. But, it was all gone in an instant as the elderly man snorted the entire line in a single go, taking pleasure in the shivers it sent through his entire body.

As soon as the tingling passed, he gripped the arms of his throne and stood tall, his whole being emanating a newfound strength as his musculature seemed to shift before Shaad's very eyes. The changing man lurched forward, bony fingers wrapped around the aged, leather bound hilt of the cusped falchion on his hip being dragged lazily along the ground. The sound of his old bones straining and creaking filling the air as they straightened and strengthened, bringing him to an impressive height while his muscles expanded to stretch the loose, elastic skin taut, providing enviable definition. A look of sadistic joy covered his face as his body shifted from that of an old man of over 100 and on the verge of the death to one of a man in his late 50's/ early 60's who worked out constantly and possessed a musculature that world class sprinters and gymnasts would be envious of. With his body being altered and expanding, the worn cloak fell from his face first, exposing the narrow, sharp features and hooked, almost pointed, nose before falling off completely, revealing a chiseled chest and arms in addition to the strong legs that were already visible, all covered in a myriad of old scars as well as two large ones that stood out crossing over his torso under the ancient armor themed tattoo that painted his upper chest and shoulders.

Once he'd fully undergone the unexpected metamorphosis, he stood almost half a foot over anyone else in the room, and when he spoke, his voice no longer sounded tired and weak, only further increasing the uneasiness and fear his new presence incited as killer intent and bloodlust poured off him in thick waves. "Let this overwhelming fear freeze your soul in the afterlife. Prepare him."

The masked men then yanked Shaad to where his body was upright from the knees up. He'd regained enough energy to hold this position himself, but wouldn't make it that easy on them. . . until two sickles hooked around his neck by the muscle bound lieutenant compelled him to be especially compliant and straighten his back completely. Both the boss and underboss exchanged foreboding looks causing Shaad to swallow the growing lump in his throat, the blades around his throat making themselves known as he did so.

And, with the blades biting into every side of his neck, taunting him, Shaad's eyes remained open and glued on the man slowly approaching him. The leader moved with deliberate steps, flexing his fingers and cracking his joints as if adjusting to his altered body. Shaad knew death was near and readied for it with a defiant glare, refusing to show weakness in the face of insurmountable odds.

But, just as the leader began to deliver Shaad a slow, torturous death, pained screams escaping through gritted teeth and pervading the isolated cavern, he was interrupted by the loud ringing of a distant den den mushi.

"Put it on speaker," the leader commanded of one of the nearly naked female attendants that stayed near him, ceasing his planned execution as a commanding voice emanated from the other end, foregoing the usual formalities and getting straight to the point.

"Tell me why one of my biggest business partners just called and demanded I immediately stop the leader of my West Blue operations," the voice boomed.

"Boss, to what do I owe the honor?" the leader replied, his voice shaky like a child being scolded by his father.

"Answer my question or you'll have the honor of finding out how vicious my business partners can be," the domineering voice threatened. "Upsetting them is my pleasure; do so without my permission and the consequences will be all yours."

Shaad listened intently as the man on the other end admonished his subordinate, inadvertently saving Shaad's life in the process. The young pirate's brow creased in a bewildered expression, though, as Shaad thought he recognized the voice. Once the last sentence was spoken, Shaad's eyebrows shot into his hairline and instant recognition flashed over his features as it suddenly came to him. "Uncle!?" he called out in surprise and questioning, drawing perplexed stares from others in the room.

The voice on the other end lightened up significantly as he responded to Shaad's sudden outburst. "Of course. I should've known when _he_ called making demands," the man chided himself. "Tell me, Cornelious, how is your father? He wasn't exactly in a chatting mood."

"Uncle, help! They're going to kill me!" He was able to scream as the blades around his neck were loosened and remained lax on his shoulders.

"Tsk tsk," the man admonished Shaad. "Cornelious, this isn't like you. I don't remember you being so prone to overreacting in the past. . . My men are smart," he commented. "I'm sure they saw the two swords you're no doubt carrying on your back and immediately recognized them as the infamous Chiryoku and Tairyoku. They were probably just testing you; you're destined to carry a lot of responsibility after all." Even without allowing time for a response, the man opened the floor for Shaad to tell his story. "But, all that aside, why don't you tell me why you think they want to kill you."

While Shaad succinctly summarized the main points of the night's events, he felt the blades that had been around his neck completely leave his person. The vice-leader had tucked them back into his belt on the small of his back and used the time it took for Shaad's recounting of events to inform his direct superior that there was an unwanted guest listening in.

Before either of them could do anything to quietly be rid of the hidden person, though, their attentions were claimed by the voice of their shared superior. "You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you (cowering behind your mother); to think my men weak is no small feat. However, I can't just let you walk out of here after killing hundreds of my men."

"But -," Shaad's objection was cut short by a sudden newcomer hastily barging into the room, screaming, "Daddy, no," in a panic.

"Luna, go back to your room," the branch's leader commanded of the adorable little girl of no more than eight years old. Luna sucked in a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks, stomping her foot defiantly from her spot in front of a kneeling Shaad.

"Lulu," Shaad sounded in surprise.

"Cuzzie Sha," Luna squealed happily, glomping him in a tight hug, her small arms squeezing his already sore neck in her excitement. Shaad weakly returned the hug, simultaneously attempting to pry himself free, though she soon relented anyway to voice her displeasure with her father. "You can't hurt Cuzzie Sha, daddy."

"I'm not going to hurt him, sweetie," the fear inducing man answered softly through the den den mushi. "Cuzzie Sha here just has to leave soon, but I'm sure you'll see him again. Now, be a good girl; go back to your room, sweetie, and let the grown-ups talk. Cornelious may need some first aid, though. You can take care of that, right?"

"Uh-huh." The little girl was highly pleased at hearing that, but before she could skip out and do as her daddy asked, she was stopped by the once fragile, elderly man. "Wait, Luna," he called. "How long were you listening through the door?" While the man was fearful of interrupting his boss, he needed to know the answer. It would be difficult to explain his previous actions to an innocent, albeit naive, little girl.

"I started listening when I heard daddy's voice," she answered cheerily. "I can't wait to see daddy again." The man was relieved and let a small smile cross his face as the little girl left, but that was quickly replaced by a serious scowl as Shaad spoke directly to the boss.

"What did you mean by that; I'll be leaving soon?"

"Exactly that. Word will soon spread across that island about how a lone man went against the Black Mafia Family. You can't be allowed to just stay there without consequence or it would reflect poorly on my men and my name, and that would cause trouble."

"How am I supposed to leave without a ship?" Shaad asked.

There was initially a sigh over the line as if the man was growing increasingly exasperated with Shaad's continued questions. "A cargo ship under my command will be arriving there in two weeks' time. You'll be on that ship when it leaves or else I won't guarantee your safety. In the meantime, keep a low profile."

"And, what of my friend?"

"Same goes for them," he answered. "But if you're foolish enough to think you're ready to take on a marked man from my organization, go right ahead." At those last words, Shaad looked at the leader as if it was his first time seeing him. Surely enough, on his right hip, the top of a 'Z' was barely visible, and Shaad, remembering what it meant to be 'marked' in his 'uncle's' organization, knew this wasn't a fight he could win, not at his current level. While those thoughts ran through his head, the boss on the other end of the call spoke to the leader of the area they were in. "Luo Qan, I'll arrange for reinforcements to arrive in the coming weeks; use this chance to bring your house under control."

The leader, Luo Qan, promptly nodded his head and answered with a forceful "Yes, sir," but Shaad was quick to interject with a completely unrelated proposal of his own.

"Wait, uncle. Let me take LuLu, I mean Luna, with me; this is no place for her. I'll bring her straight to you."

Everyone immediately saw the threatening scowl the man wore through the imitative den den mushi and the air was still for a second before he responded in a bone chillingly serious tone. "I'm doing you a favor because of who your father is and our shared past; don't push your luck. My daughter is there for likely the same reason your dad pushed you out: you're both too weak to survive in this world. I'd hate to have to start a war because your weakness got my youngest daughter killed."

Shaad hated being called weak, but he knew better than to oppose this man and simply swallowed his pride and took the insult, not registering anything else until a command came over the receiver a short while later. "Send him back." The next thing Shaad felt was a sharp pain in the back of his neck before his whole world went black and he was out like a light.


	17. Second Chance

**Second Chance**

Shaad's unconscious body was roughly yanked off the ground and dragged away from the transformed leader, still scowling at how things had transpired. As he was being manhandled, the two booklets taken from Rooster's office fell from within Shaad's hoodie. The books' edges had been frayed in the conflict, but the leader, Luo Qan, recognized the card stock on which the notes had been written as well as the 'Hen House' letterhead as he bent over to pick it up.

As Luo Qan sat back down in his throne, a mysterious figure appeared over his shoulder. Only a pair of sharp yellow eyes - with pupils slit like some snakes - were visible from the darkened shadows, half shaded by what appeared to be the brim of a hat.

"Is the whore taken care of," Luo Qan gravely questioned the figure.

"Yes, Master," came the calm, haunting reply.

"Good; Boss Black will likely send an Emissary to audit our branch here soon. We need to make sure to have our affairs in order by then. I need you to find the other whore and take care of her along with any other loose ends."

"Of course, Master."

"Now, Rooster may have been a weak, overconfident ass, but he was by far the best numbers man we had. Replacing him won't be easy, and in the meantime, it's important we trim our ranks; far too much trash has been allowed to accumulate."

With only a silent nod of his head, the figure slunk back into the darkness, leaving the leader alone in his throne room.

* * *

Shaad awoke hours later. . . resting snugly in the lavish expanse of his hotel room's opulent bed, and with the curvaceous backside of a woman he soon recognized as Raine nestled comfortably against him while she slept soundly. An even more pleasant surprise for the young pirate, though, was that, aside from a lingering sleepiness, he felt fully energized and reinvigorated, a far cry from how he last remembered feeling when he had to make a deal to ensure his (and Raine's) continued survival past that singular rainy night.

He didn't understand how it had all turned out like this until his mind lingered on the subject a few minutes longer and he remembered the treatment (using that term loosely) the young Luna had used to tend his wounds.

 _'No, that couldn't have actually -'_ , he thought, thinking back to the vile concoction she made for him to drink, claiming it would fully replenish his energy and make him feel better. He didn't believe her in the least, but he knew the naive little girl's heart was in the right place and downed the entire glass in one go, consequences be damned.

 _'That was just dry leaves and random plants crushed in hot water. They hadn't even been cleaned properly.'_

But, despite how little the entire thing seemed to make sense, the results were undeniable. And, with that in mind, Shaad scrambled to a sitting position as quietly as he could manage, hoping not to wake the sleeping Raine. Throwing off the sheets he found himself lying under, Shaad saw that most of his body was indeed wrapped in white medical bandages, and contrary to what he half expected, there was no soreness in his joints or even a lingering sting from the innumerable injuries he'd accumulated across all of his fights the day before. He ran his hands over his arms and stomach, tracing the locations of the many scars he remembered suffering. He then ripped away the bandages wrapped around his chest to see that the three slashes Vega's claw had gouged into him were also gone. From his defined abs to his chiseled chest, Shaad's hands worked their way up to check his face, finding that the cut across his cheek was indeed also gone, completely healed after only a single night's sleep.

Sparing a glance over at Raine's sleeping form, Shaad let a small smile creep across his lips. She seemed truly peaceful, almost childlike like that, he thought before he laid back down and closed his eyes to go back to sleep. There were still a few hours till noon, far too early to be getting up without good reason.

But, before he slipped back into slumber's warm embrace, Raine's voice sounded sleepily beside him.

"Sorry."

Shaad didn't know what to say. Sure his brain was ahead of his body in getting back to sleep, but Raine's voice sounded almost weak, vulnerable, something he'd never before sensed from the provocative, strong-willed woman. It was as if the little girl inside was peeking through, and Shaad felt strangely guilty for being there when it happened. But, he then felt the bed fluctuate as she rolled over. He looked down at her.

Looking back at him through half-lidded eyes, she repeated, "I'm sorry."

Now Shaad was really confused. Her voice sounded truly sincere in her apology, but she had nothing to apologize for as far as he was concerned. She was right before when she said the problems were due to his own shortcomings, his fault. But, Raine just kept looking at him with those sleepy, almost doe like eyes and he remembered something.

He'd actually made it back to the hotel shortly before Raine. He'd woken up after being discarded by the entrance and as he prepared to go to sleep, Raine stumbled through the elevator doors even more drunk than when he'd left her. She came onto him - more forcefully than her usual playful flirtations - but she was drunk and he was tired so he pushed her aside with little regard and lay down.

"No; I'm sorry for being so rough; you were drunk and I had a lot on my mind. Let's just forget about it."

Raine's response was soft but forceful, in a dazed and sleepy sort of way. "No, I mean about everything. It's just. . . you're kinda weird." Shaad donned a confused, somewhat insulted, expression at that comment. In what way was he weird? Sure his disposition was different than most, but that was mostly due to his upbringing and what he'd been through (and he still didn't really know how much of that story Raine believed). "You're not like most guys," Raine continued, oblivious to any change in Shaad's demeanor. "I've teased you a lot," Shaad thought he heard a low chuckle after that statement," and most guys would've tried to make a move or called me a slut and created distance. I mean, I know you're not gay by the way you look at me." Shaad really didn't know how to take that last statement; Raine's tone seemed genuine behind the haze of sleep and a hangover, but the way she now lay on his arm, she could've been gauging his reaction.

"You're a gorgeous woman, no doubt. While your personality is just a bit too. . . _friendly_ for my taste, I do fantasize sometimes, " he didn't know why he was being so open right now, maybe the part of his mind that would usually filter his statements still hadn't woken up, but he just felt so open with the two of them laying under the covers cuddled as they were. _'Hopefully,'_ he thought, _'she wouldn't remember this when she recovered from her hangover.'_ "But, I can't help but think I actually want to live a long life."

The two shared a light laugh at Shaad's wise crack, and he could feel Raine's unrestrained breasts nestle against his arm through the thin fabric of the white tank top she wore, causing an unintended stirring below the covers.

It was then that Raine's voice purred directly into his ear, "I made the right choice staying with you; your reactions are so cute."

 _'I'm still not so sure,'_ Shaad silently mused with a slight smirk. Lost in his thoughts, he willed himself to calm down even as he felt Raine lift her head and nuzzle into his strong chest. His smile broadened as he looked down at the peaceful, contented expression on her face. This was definitely, in his eyes, the most beautiful she'd been since they'd met, and it was in that position that they each allowed themselves to fall back into the sanctity of slumber.

* * *

While Raine and Shaad slept the day away, the hidden shadows of Tatihara were awake and lurking. Over on the outskirts of the westernmost coast, an abandoned warehouse lay in a state of dilapidated disrepair. Inside the building, past the wire mesh fence and caution signs, three bodies lay decomposing in the empty facility's center: a skinny man lying in a pool of dried blood from the slit in his throat, a large muscled man clutching at his abdomen, the contents of which resided beneath his hunched body, and a once beautiful, blonde woman dead in the chair she was still tied to, mutilated beyond recognition as if tortured before finally being put out of her misery. The rotting flesh had long since attracted flies and other insects with larger scavengers no doubt not far behind, but it would be a while still before they would be discovered (if ever) as the facility resided far outside the territory of any of the island's major towns.

Meanwhile, citizens of the central city, Kankenru, hustled through the wide streets, loud from the midday clamor of the people from throughout the island. Kankenru was the main trade area of the island outside of the ports and served as one of the few designated 'safe zones' on the island where only minor thugs occasionally stirred up a little trouble, careful to avoid attention from the watchful eye of those higher up on the food chain. On one of the bustling streets lined with various shops, a young couple strolled along happily. The attractive woman hung on the arm of the finely dressed and intimidating man to her right as they eyed a few of the finer shops while whispering between themselves, the entire time unaware of the mysterious man stalking them from behind.

The man in question was like a ghost among the people, moving forward unencumbered by the crowds, his physique hidden by a long trench coat and only his sharp eyes visible peering out from underneath the wide brimmed hat that shaded his features. Even as the stranger ate up the distance between the couple and himself with quick strides, the enamored pair remained oblivious to his presence until it was already too late and the well-dressed man had been driven through by a hidden blade.

Before the woman could react though, her boyfriend slowly falling from her grasp, she felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders and pull her away, the overwhelming presence stifling the scream she wanted with every fiber of her being to release. By the time the first person noticed the now dead man and the lively crowd reacted accordingly, the woman had already been led a fair distance away to a more secluded back road where, finally finding her lost voice, she released a shrill, ear shattering scream that reached the far reaches of the island before it and her life were quickly and unceremoniously cut off.

* * *

"What was that?" Shaad nearly shouted the question, shooting up from the bed in a flash.

"What was what?" Raine asked in an annoyed tone as she walked in from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her as she wrung out her long hair.

"I thought I heard a scream."

"Huh," Raine questioned. "Did you forget this room is soundproof? It was probably just your snoring."

Shaad could admit that he may have just been hearing things, but he couldn't let the secondary dig slide laying down (even if he was still in bed). "I don't snore, that's you."

Raine briefly shot Shaad a fierce glare, but the tired smirk he wore remained unfazed even as she threatened him, "You wanna get hurt don't you? You'll be hearing your screams, you keep making jokes like that."

Shaad simply brushed it away, moving past the whole thing and asking, "What time is it?"

"Almost two. I got up a little over an hour ago to order room service and take a shower."

"So," Shaad began, "are they still serving breakfast?"

"For me," came the short reply.

Shaad didn't quite understand, but didn't much care either. It sounded like a yes to him. So, he picked up the den den mushi receiver and made a call while Raine went back into the bathroom and closed the door.

It didn't take long for someone to pick up on the other side and Shaad promptly placed his order.

"We're sorry, sir. Hotel policy is to stop serving breakfast at 11," came the much undesired response, but Shaad answered without missing a beat.

"It's for the penthouse suite, Miss Raine," he said forcefully, implying the food was for Raine.

"The man on the other end was slow to respond, made nervous by the mention of Raine's name. But, upon recovering, he tried to respond, "But, she-"

"Good," Shaad interrupted before hanging up. _'How does she do it,'_ he wondered to himself. _'It's like rules don't apply to her.'_

 _'You should know. You also do whatever she says,'_ the voice in his head snidely remarked.

Shaad pushed the comment aside, but didn't have a great deal of time to linger on the issue as room service made great time in bringing the food up. And, with perfect timing, Raine exited the bathroom in a pair of blue booty shorts and a white top that was barely more than a sports bra at the exact time they knocked on the door. Shaad bounded past Raine and into the bathroom, hurriedly asking, "Can you get that," as he passed.

Raine brushed it off and answered the door, smiling coyly at the flustered attendant as he carted in the tray of food and prepared to leave with a meek bow. But, Raine grabbed him by the shoulders and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, teasing him with a view down her top in the process, before pushing him out the door, his face now entirely a crimson red and his movements noticeably stiff.

"Should I be jealous," Shaad slyly remarked after the door closed, clearing his throat to alert Raine that he'd seen her little teasing.

"Hmph," Raine scoffed as she took a seat at the foot of the bed, crossed her legs and leaned back.

Shaad, meanwhile, sat in the comfortable armchair near the bed, barely registering Raine's next statement, but still almost choking on the first bite of food as she said it.

"Fucking those hoes must have been hungry business." She'd said it almost absent-mindedly, but smirked to herself at eliciting the reaction she was aiming for.

Shaad looked to Raine wide eyed and flabbergasted as he ended the coughing fit that ensued from basically forcing the food down. "I. . . I," Raine raised an eye expectantly, enjoying watching Shaad stumble in his search for words. "I didn't sleep with them," he finally managed.

"I never said you did," she teased, finding amusement as Shaad looked to have trouble just breathing.

He didn't quite know why it flustered him so, but Shaad's response came quick and forcefully. "I didn't have sex with them! They drugged and robbed me. I don't know why, but attaining higher levels of pleasure was the only thing on my mind. They used that to play me, tie me up, and knock me out." From there, Shaad relayed the details of what happened with him the night before, covering everything from the failed attempt on his life to recovering his property to the deal he was forced into to ensure both his and her safety.

"Tied up," Raine finally commented after an extended pause. "I didn't know you had that kind of kink."

"I don't."

"Whatever," Raine waved his emphatic reaction aside, lowering her voice to seductive whisper to add on, "That sounds like it could be a lot of fun in controlled situations."

The full breakfast Shaad had ordered was splendid, but through trying to decipher exactly how much Raine believed his tale from only her flirtatious remarks, the disconcerting nods of assent and the critical gaze she kept leveled at him made every bite devoid of the usual pleasure he took in eating a wonderful meal.

Silence hung in the air as he finished the last few bites, Raine never letting up on her challenging stare and Shaad too nervous to meet her gaze head on. "So," Raine finally began, her tone soft and inquisitive. "If all of that is really true. . ." she paused for a moment, lifting up off the bed. Crossing the small space between Shaad and herself, Raine pushed the cart and empty plates of food aside so she could grab the arms of the chair, seductively leaning over him as she continued to stare into his eyes. Without warning, she tore open his shirt, scattering the buttons across the floor, and traced a manicured nail up his unblemished chest and across the smooth skin of his cheek, sultrily whispering in his ear as she continued her previous sentence, ". . . why don't you have any scars to show for it. I'm sure such an intense fight couldn't have been easy. . . even for you."

Shaad tightened up at Raine's lips so close to his ear, her fresh scent filling his nostrils from the close proximity, and she could sense that, but he answered with as much detail and honesty he could muster given not even he fully understood what happened. As expected, though, Raine wasn't buying any parts of a story involving a little girl with a Devil Fruit power that could heal injuries and completely restore energy over night with childish and completely nonsensical remedies.

"If this little Luna is such a magical healer," Raine stated, disbelief bordering on mockery evident in her voice, "why didn't she take care of the missing piece of your ear?"

That question immediately reminded Shaad of the piece of ear he'd lost in his bout with Vega and, like a sudden revelation, an answer poured forth from his lips. "Her power obviously doesn't extend to replacing lost pieces (I mean you can see she took care of the scars on my chest); makes sense given there are no simplistic methods to replace a limb a child might even begin to understand. But, that reminds me. . . I need a favor."

* * *

That night, Shaad and Raine went out, Shaad wearing an outfit similar to what he wore to the underground fights just a day before while Raine was dressed in a tight little black dress that accentuated her every curve and had just the right amount of cutouts to put her sexiness and eye-catching appeal at max without quite reaching the level of slutty even as her bosom was pushed high up on her chest without need of a bra and the stiletto heels poked her ass out that extra bit. Raine knew how good she looked even without causing Shaad to stammer and almost drool upon first seeing her in the outfit, but his reaction was an added benefit for her. Their target that night was the hottest night club on the entire island, Paradise, and with the extravagant entrance and stylish, neon sign it was impossible to miss.

Though the line outside the club went around the corner and then some, Raine led Shaad straight up to the beefy bouncer and into the club while those in line (and the bouncer) either jealously glared at the pair or took in the sight of Raine's sumptuous ass on display in her suffocating dress. Once inside, Shaad stuck close to Raine, hardly able to think over the booming music much less speak. But his trusty navigator seemed unaffected by the noise, the dancing crowd, the smoke, and the rotating strobe lights as she led him through the rocking club, making a bee line towards a staircase in the back where two more muscle bound men in tight black shirts and slacks stood guard. Without even a word, the two large men stepped aside and let Raine through, allowing Shaad to follow only at her beckoning.

She then led Shaad up the stairs and to a wraparound couch situated at the far end of the upstairs balcony like area where two men - a man larger than any of the others at almost seven feet in a plain black ensemble of a muscle shirt and black jeans with matching combat boots and shades and a much shorter (barely five feet tall) and more rotund man dressed in a colorful set of fancy clothes with a size too big, fur lined coat nearly engulfing him and an expensive array of jewelry weighing on him - waited, the smaller man reclining on the couch as he drank directly from an expensive bottle of liquor while the other stood stoically off to the side. The smaller man stood up with outstretched arms as he saw the lovely Raine approaching, a wide smile on his face. They greeted one another with a friendly kiss on each cheek, and, without even acknowledging Shaad, the short statured V.I.P asked Raine with a smile, "So, have you reconsidered my offer?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Writing this chapter, I almost felt compelled to add the 'romance' tag. But, fear not (or sorry to disappoint), this is not going to focus on a love story between Raine and Shaad. Their relationship dynamic _is_ central to the future crew dynamics as a whole, though. And, this is the best way I've come t\up with to tell Raine's story. So, the next several chapters will focus on that and, of course, advancing the story. (Plus, Vega makes a return. ( _Finally_ )) Feel free to share your thoughts in the reviews or a PM. Thanks for reading.


	18. Dangerous Dealings

**Dangerous Dealings**

"So, have you reconsidered my offer?"

Shaad didn't have a clue as to what type of offer the diminutive man could be referring. Hell, Shaad didn't have a clue as to who the man even was. But, none of that even mattered as Raine answered, "No, I actually came here for a friend." diverting the man's attention to Shaad with a wave.

"Well any friend of Raine's is a friend of mine," he answered cheerfully. "What can I do you for? Drugs, women, you name it; I'm sure we can work out something."

Shaad was somewhat dismayed by where the man's thoughts immediately went. It seemed no one on the island thought of legal channels first; granted, if it were something common he were looking for, a nightclub likely wouldn't be the first place to head for it. "No, I need information," Shaad responded sternly.

"That'll cost you," the man answered, his smile also giving way to a more serious expression.

"How much?"

"Depends on what you want to know."

"What can you tell me about. . .?"

 **[Hours Earlier]**

". . . I need a favor."

"Of course you do," Raine straightened up, rolling her eyes at Shaad's failed attempt of sounding casual. "How are you hoping to cost me money this time?"

"I need to know where I can find Vega. Can you get that information for me?"

"Why, so you can throw another fight," Raine questioned sourly. "I'm not betting on you a second time."

"I'm hoping not to have to fight him again," Shaad stated calmly, looking Raine straight in the eyes as he continued with a rough edge to his voice, "and, I didn't throw that fight. I had to use Boost X3 plus a few bursts just to make the fight interestin' and give myself a chance. But without my swords, that was the best I could do without overexerting myself."

"Huh? What's this boost and burst nonsense? Bottom line is you lost, and if you needed those swords -"

Shaad knew where Raine was going with her argument, and knew if he let her get there, the entire exchange would devolve into something bad. So, he cut her off by grabbing her hand and pulling her to him as he stood up. He looked down into her eyes. She carried herself with so much confidence and Shaad had an idea of how strong she really was, but in this position, she seemed so soft to him, almost vulnerable.

Shaad spoke softly, but with a weight that drew Raine to listen with rapt attention. "I ate a Devil's Fruit; it made me an energy storage human. In addition to my typical energy levels, I can store vast amounts of reserve energy to use at any given time. Using that specialized energy, I can increase my strength, speed, and stamina up to three times for an extended period of time (that is a Boost) or I can jump my strength and/or speed tenfold for an instant (that is a Burst). How much I can unleash at a single moment is determined solely by how well my body can hold up, and while I don't exactly know the upper limits of the ability yet, I know I've never before felt as energized as I do right now."

It took Raine a second to break from the daze she'd been drawn into, but when she did, she pushed Shaad away, further complaining, "Then why not just use light bursts along with boosts?"

"Boost is already rather taxing, and with each burst, I can feel my insides degrade a little; it's too much for my body as it is now. Besides, a single boost is usually enough to take on most people I can't handle with my strength alone. Vega, though, pushed me to boost every aspect as much as I could. So, can you help me?"

"Of course I can," Raine answered, recovering her usual confidence and haughtiness. "But, if you're not going to fight him, why do you want to know where he is?"

"To recruit him, Shaad declared with a smirk, the combination momentarily disarming Raine.

 **[Present Time]**

"Sangre's dog, Vega? Now there's an interesting topic. What exactly do you want to know?"

"I," Shaad began to answer, but the sound of Raine clearing her throat drew his attention to his beautiful navigator, standing with her arms crossed and an annoyed expression on her face.

"I get all dressed up and bring you to the hottest dance club this side of the Red Line, and all you want to do is talk to a dude? No offense, Big G."

Shaad was about to respond but was again interrupted, this time by Big G. "None taken, my dear. You're right of course, but business calls. Tell you what, you go on downstairs and have fun, and we'll come find you once we're through." Big G smiled broadly at Raine as he added, "And for you, whatever you want is on the house. Have fun."

Raine cracked a smile and blew a kiss to the short man before spinning on her heel to head downstairs, but Shaad couldn't miss the unmistakable glimmer in her eyes. Even after only traveling with her for a short while, he recognized it as the glimmer she got when things went her way. However, behind that glimmer Shaad also caught the silent threat levied towards him if he dared put up any more of her money without first discussing it with her.

Both men's eyes followed Raine as she left, only turning back to each other once she was completely out of sight. Big G wore a pleased grin that seemed to hide deeper implications while Shaad flashed an amused smirk at Raine's cunning and blasè attitude to the dealings as a whole. Shaad was the first to speak once they were certain Raine had made it downstairs.

"You know, she only said that to get something, and you just gave it to her."

Big G let out a light laugh at Shaad stating what he also viewed as rather obvious before replying, "Listen youngster, with a woman that fine you gotta be ready to give up something. A few drinks or whatever is nothing." He then sat down, gulping down the rest of his bottle in one swig before ordering another, along with two glasses, as if to illustrate his point. "Sit, have a drink, and ask whatever you want to know," Big G invited, holding a hand to an open chair across the glass table from him.

"Okay-"

"Sorry; I got so caught in the moment, I failed to get your name."

"Rashaad, Cornelious Rashaad. But, most just call me Shaad."

"Well, Shaad, I'm known as Big G, the owner of this club, and this," he said, motioning to the large man standing silently a few steps over his shoulder, "is Tiny."

Shaad let a brief glint of confusion show on his face at how backwards those two names seemed and Big G chuckled lightly at that. But, Shaad easily straightened up and asked, "How did someone as strong as Vega come to be in Sangre's stable of fighters?"

Big G paused a moment before responding. The way Shaad phrased the question caught his attention and reminded him of something. "That's why your name sounds familiar; you're the stranger that stepped in the ring with Vega." Shaad nodded in affirmation and Big G continued. "Coming here to ask about him must mean he left quite the indelible impression. And, the fact you're still alive must mean you also made quite the impression. Though, it was a memorable match-up."

"You were there," Shaad questioned.

"No, Kings are restricted to their own territory unless they receive permission otherwise and that's rarely granted."

"Kings? What do you mean?"

Big G released a boisterous laughter at Shaad's puzzled expression, taking a moment to calm himself before speaking. "Sorry, I got a bit ahead of myself. I can explain if you'd like."

"Please do," Shaad answered shortly, prompting the club owner (and King) to explain a few details about the governance and history of Tatihara.

"Many decades ago, this island was wrested from the World Government's control by the Revolutionary Army, but they never solidified control so the country struggled for years under a free banner. And, due to lack of resources and trade partners, the leadership it did have often floundered. However, I settled here about sixteen years ago after coming back from the Grand Line and saw an opportunity. I built my holdings here from the ground up till this island rested in the palm of my hands."

Shaad didn't want to interrupt the outlaw turned high level gangster, but Big G clearly loved framing the story as that of a rags to riches tale and Shaad didn't care to hear about how wise and forward thinking he was for much longer. Before Shaad had to say anything, though, Big G's bodyguard, Tiny, gave him a light pat on the shoulder and he quickly moved the story forward.

"A few years ago, though, a couple of power players from deep in the Grand Line decided to move in to my burgeoning empire. They easily overpowered me, but I convinced them my contacts and knowledge of shipping routes would take years to replace, and eventually we hammered out an uneasy truce between each of their representatives and myself with each party taking control of a particular vice and certain responsibilities. We came to be known as the Three Kings of this island, and the profits have only grown since."

Shaad then glimpsed Tiny give a sly tap to the man's shoulder that most would've missed, and from that point, when Shaad delved for more details on each of the three Kings and who backed them, he kept getting stonewalled. Big G was suddenly tight lipped but Shaad was in no position to call him on it, especially after he switched the subject back to their original topic, the reason Shaad had let himself be dragged there in the first place.

"But, you wanted info on that Vega character, right? Anything in particular?"

"Yes," Shaad answered with swallowed chagrin at being blocked, hoping it didn't show through in his voice or expression. "Backstory and where I can find him now."

"Well, his backstory is actually quite interesting; what I know of it anyway," Big G began, smirking as he saw the clear interest in Shaad's eyes.

Big G was a natural speaker and storyteller, masterfully manipulating the flow of Shaad's thoughts with each word as he relayed the tale and told of how he'd actually come across Vega years earlier on a trip to see a merchant about certain types of goods.

Vega (unsurprisingly not his real name) was actually originally from South Blue. It came as a shock, though, that he was actually a brash, talkative youth. While homeless, he survived, gaining confidence and experience, as a thief, a highly skilled one at that. Big G came across him after some black diamonds, part of a larger shipment of stolen jewels and drugs, meant for the prospering gangster were stolen from a safe house.

Within the same week, Big G finally spotted the audacious culprit in the process of stealing wads of bills from an acquaintance of his as they left a bar, only noticing his own missing items moments later. While Big G avoided outing the skilled thief right there, he did follow the young man and confront him, though the tail was almost lost a few times (quite the feat to hear Big G tell it). The shrewd and crafty negotiator he was, Big G, over the course of the next few days, used the findings he'd uncovered that night to convince the deft sneak to accompany him to a richer, more spacious 'playground' and at the same time reacquire the stolen black diamonds as well as get what remained of the shipment from his contacts at a steeply discounted price along with future incentives.

"However, I never officially claimed him as part of my gang. He did a few jobs for me here and there, but was allowed free reign outside of that. It was under those conditions that he got caught stealing from Sangre," Big G described as the second bottle of liquor was finished off, Shaad (willfully) never tasting a drop. "Like myself, Sangre also took an interest in the boy. But his came not from the failed theft, but after seeing Vega take down a handful of his personal men. That was a couple of years ago; I don't know exactly what all he's been through since then, but it was in the fight circuit he gained his name and went from agile thief to ruthless assassin."

Despite himself, Shaad was very near wide eyed as Big G finished the story. He'd learned quite a bit from the tale - some of it actually regarding the person he was asking about - and judging by his expression Shaad liked what he heard, some might say disturbingly so.

Shaad wore a twisted grin and his voice sounded with an anxious sneer as he once again asked, "So, where can I find him?"

"Why are you so anxious to find Vega," Big G finally questioned Shaad, tapping his glass with his index finger as he awaited the answer.

"It's not often I lose," Shaad answered cryptically, leaving his response at that.

Shaad and Big G shared borderline malicious smirks for a long while before Big G raised an open palm flat and Tiny laid a pen and paper in the waiting hand. Big G then went about writing the location down on the paper and folding it in half before sliding the note across the table to the young pirate. The club owner's expression then immediately shifted from serious to an infectious smile, soon imitated by Shaad, as he declared, "Now, that the business is taken care of, why don't you enjoy yourself?"

"What about payment," Shaad inquired.

"You let me worry about that."

Shaad didn't like that answer, but that was a problem for a later date. Thus, he pushed the thought aside, choosing instead to venture over to the railing lining the second level and look down at the festivities below, easily finding Raine dancing merrily, and quite raunchily, while surrounded by a group of amorous young men and a few lovely ladies as well. Raine also soon caught him watching over her and gave a sly wink in response, pulling in an attractive male and dancing seductively close as if to make Shaad jealous. At the same time, Shaad heard footsteps approaching behind him. Assuming them to belong to Big G, he asked, "How do you and Raine know each other?"

Stopping next to Shaad, Big G released a hefty sigh as he joined the young man in looking over the sea of people awash in the club's colorful lights; it was a packed house, which meant a profitable night (from more than just drinks). He then handed Shaad a glass of whiskey before speaking. "My position as a King in this island affords me certain levels of respect. You and Raine both buck that to an extent." Shaad was visually puzzled by how he'd shown disrespect to the improprietous individual, and Big G caught it in his peripheral but set it aside to be addressed later. "A few nights ago, maybe a week (I don't remember exactly), she knocked out my doormen, barged into my club, and beat half of my security team - all without a hair falling out of place - demanding to speak to me. She was interesting and beautiful (and it was far cheaper than subduing her would have been), so I conceded to her demand. I invited her to my office where we talked for a while and she asked me about some underground fights. Now, this club is my pride, but when word of an alluring femme fatale spread among certain groups, I knew what type of boom it could bring to business so I let the superficial scratches slide and made nice. She's quite a friend to have, and I'd assume enemy as well," Big G finished with a chuckle.

Shaad shared the man's thoughts and also gave a light smile in agreement, placing the drink he'd been given down and turning to descend the stairs. But, Big G's distinct voice calling out gave him pause. "That," the owner called. "Most would see it as an honor to share a drink with me, but you've shut it down at every turn. I know you don't think you're better than me." G said that last sentence as much as a question as a challenge, an equal mix of threat and offense in his serious tone.

"I meant no offense against you," Shaad assured. "I simply don't drink. The one time I chose to, I ended up unleashing a side of myself I don't particularly like to show."

Big G gave a slow nod of understanding, his expression softening as he offered the prophetic words, "Demons; we all have 'em. . .What about you?" But, there was a distinct impression that he knew far more than just the general understanding he implied.

"Huh?"

"How do you know Raine?"

"She's my," Shaad began before contemplating his answer on a deeper level. Navigator didn't quite do her influence over him justice nor did he particularly care to divulge his status as a fledgling pirate (or whatever else might be assumed from that admission). "She's my partner," he finally answered.

"Ohh," Big G answered, insinuation clear in his tone.

"No; not like that," Shaad answered hastily. "Just business." _'For the most part anyway,'_ he thought to himself.

"Oh, that's a shame. . . for you." Big G puzzlingly left it at that, bidding Shaad adieu as the young man headed downstairs. He then watched Shaad cross through the sea of intoxicated club-goers to get to Raine, prying her away from the mob that surrounded her with an annoyed scowl. After a short lived dispute and flirtatious exchange, the pair headed towards the exit just as a ringing from his private office, beckoned Big G's immediate attention.

"Yea, they just left," Big G declared, already knowing who was on the other end.

"They never suspected a thing. But, you were right; that pirate brat is actually quite crafty. He made my act of having a loose tongue that much easier." G laughed into the receiver, only slowing his mocking when the expression on the den den mushi morphed into an irritated scowl. Big G's voice also took on a serious tone at the apparently challenging remarks of his conversation partner.

"You best remember who you're talking to before making those kinds of accusations. I'm a fellow King precisely because I can control a situation."

"Heh, I don't trust you either, wrinkly bastard. But, right now we can either stay focused and work together or I can make it where I'm the only King left. . . just like the good old days."

There was silence in Big G's office for a long while before G finally cracked a toothy grin. "That's what I thought."

* * *

 **A/N:** I explained Shaad's Devil Fruit as succinctly as I could, but if anything is unclear, just ask. Anyway, another chapter down and Shaad might still be in hot water. I guess that's to be expected from the most dangerous island in West Blue, huh?


	19. Calm Before the Storm

**Calm Before the Storm**

"You were right; he is a slimy bastard," Shaad declared as he stripped out of his shirt, tossing it aside, and slunk into the restful armchair. He and Raine had just walked back into the penthouse suite they shared, and Shaad seemed flustered after his recent negotiations with the owner of Paradise and one of the resident Kings, Big G. Though he got what he wanted out of the meeting, something about the man didn't sit right with him.

"I told you," Raine offered soothingly. "But, he does know how to treat a lady," she commented with a sly smirk, teasingly straddling Shaad's lap as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Shaad just lay back in the chair, paying Raine's erotic antics little mind until the talk of Big G brought something to mind. "What offer was he talking about?"

"Hmm?"

"When we first entered the club, Big G mentioned something about reconsidering his offer. What type of offer was he talking about?"

"Oh, that." Raine's face scrunched up as if the mere memory was unpleasant. But, then a mischievous gleam shone in her eyes as her luscious lips curled up into a seductive smile, ensuring Shaad that she had something (un)pleasant in mind. "We~ll," she drawled slowly, letting the word hang in the air for a moment as she sat down on Shaad's lap and settled in, much to his conflicted chagrin. "After you left with those prostitutes and the bar closed, I went over to Paradise to chat with the cute bartender there, and after a few drinks. . . Well, I'm sure you noticed the empty pole in the center of the club," she asked with a wink.

Shaad thought through what he saw at the club earlier that night. There was the DJ booth, the bar, and a few private rooms tucked away in the back. Oh, there were also a few poles with topless or otherwise scantily clad women dancing on them situated around the lounge area of the club along with various other entertainment features. He hadn't really thought about just how massive that club had been until now, but an isolated stripper's pole at the center?

Raine recognized the eventual look of recognition in Shaad's eyes and continued on. "Yes, the one hidden behind that sheer pink curtain. Well, after a few more drinks, I decided I'd do a little dance." Raine then began to rotate her hips in slow circles, grinding on Shaad to impress upon him an idea of how well she moved, chuckling inwardly as Shaad's hands found their way to her hips and he bit his lower lip roughly, futilely willing himself to calm down.

Once satisfied with the rather _strong_ reaction she'd elicited, Raine stilled herself and resumed speaking as if nothing had happened. "Apparently I drew quite a crowd, and when I finished Tiny escorted me to G's office where he offered me a job. Not as a stripper of course, but," she leaned close, her full breasts pressing against Shaad's powerful chest, and whispered the end of that statement quietly in Shaad's ear, enjoying the sight as even his caramel skin blushed a noticeable shade of red.

"W-Where would you have learned to pole dance," Shaad questioned, trying, and failing, to hide the catch in his throat as he asked.

"I have so many skills you don't know about," she teased in a sultry voice, trailing her palm along Shaad's cheek, her smirk growing wider as she felt the slight shiver and rise of goose bumps on his skin under her careful touch. Raine stopped and leaned in close, so close that Shaad could feel her lush, lusty lips brush lightly against his skin as she slowly mouthed, "Would you like me to show you some?"

"Yes," Shaad answered impulsively, his voice involuntarily rising an octave. "Not right now. I mean no," he hurriedly corrected himself, silently cursing his lack of self-control.

Raine audibly laughed at Shaad's flustered frustration even as he none too gingerly lifted her off of his lap and onto the arm of the chair before standing up with a huff of frustration.

Shaad had been taught before not to ask questions you didn't want to know the answer to, but, as he calmed down a bit, he instinctively turned back and asked Raine, "How do you remember so much from last night? You seemed pretty drunk by the time I got in."

Raine donned a teasing smirk and leaned back against the chair as she crossed her legs at a tantalizingly slow pace, her already short dress riding up even higher on her perfect thighs. Despite himself, Shaad's eyes were drawn towards the treasure that lingered beneath, focusing far more intently than he'd intended before Raine clearing her throat pulled his eyes back up to her own. "I don't forget details just because of a few drinks." To Shaad, the words eeked out slow as molasses complete with Raine's playful tone.

He was broken from the reverie he found himself in by Raine sexily sauntering towards him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close, whispering, "I remember everything," in his ear with a smile before moving past him. Shaad felt Raine smack his butt, but his mind had already momentarily frozen from the rush of thoughts, sensations, and emotions. He stood in that spot for what seemed like an eternity but what was in reality only a minute or two before Raine put aside the teasing and games, seriously inquiring, "What are we going to do about Vega?"

"We'll deal with that tomorrow."

Raine's grin returned at the clear tension in Shaad's tart response, opting to bite back a retort of her own and instead leave things at that for the night, allowing the two of them to settle down and relax in a somewhat awkward quiet.

The next morning, Shaad groggily awoke to fresh lumps on his head and Raine standing over him with a balled fist. "What," he asked irritably.

"How long do you plan on sleeping?" Raine demanded.

"What time is it now," Shaad questioned, sitting up and sleepily massaging the bumps on his head.

"About an hour before noon."

"Ugh, it's not even noon yet?. . . A few more hours," Shaad declared, finally answering Raine's question as he rolled over on the bed and pulled the sheets up over his head.

Raine flexed the fingers of her left hand and reached for her expandable baton with the right. Snapping it out, she swung for the lump on the bed that was Shaad.

"I'm up," Shaad called, popping to his feet after rolling off the bed to avoid Raine's strike. "You happy? I'm up. Now, what?"

"Now we talk about Vega."

"Food first," Shaad stated, dismissing Raine with a wave of his hand.

In the next instant, Shaad had moved one step to the side faster than the eye can see as Raine lunged at him over the bed. Shaad spent the next several seconds staying one step ahead of Raine as she chased him around the spacious room, tiredly swatting away her baton when she'd come close to hitting him.

"It's far too early to be fighting," Shaad said, holding Raine's arm at bay with one hand while wiping sleep from his eyes with the other. He was caught by surprise, though, as his neck was nearly snapped by a high kick. The strike temporarily dazed him, rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. When Shaad came to seconds later, he was on the ground and felt a weight on his chest.

"This isn't fighting, it's foreplay," Raine cooed, shifting higher up on Shaad's chest until she sat right beneath his chin, her firm thighs holding his head in place and forcing his gaze to her.

"Fine," Shaad submitted. "Let's talk about Vega."

"Aah," Raine pretended to whine. "Now you want to talk? But, we're in position for something much more fun." Raine stroked her index finger along Shaad's lips, planting it there as she leaned forward slightly without moving her hips and whispered to Shaad, "I promise you'll still get to use your mouth," with a naughty smirk.

Shaad finally stopped his squirming, seemingly surrendering to Raine despite maintaining a serious glare.

"Fine," she huffed. "G gave you a location, right? Do you trust it?"

"Based on the walk I took our first day here, it makes sense. And, he had no reason to lie to me. About that anyway."

"Then let's go get him; I'm bored."

"I'd rather not piss off all three Kings." 'At least not yet,' Shaad thought to himself.

"You're no fun. . . Fine; what's the plan?"

"Let me worry about that. Just make sure you're ready to leave when our ride gets here."

At that statement, Raine stood from her spot on Shaad's chest, a soft scowl marring her beauty. Shaad used the opportunity to take his first unhindered breath in a while, but that was quickly stopped by Raine's baton being jammed against his throat. Raine's scowl was replaced with a pleasant smirk as her eyes adopted the flustered feeling despite it not being present in her gentle tone as she spoke. "I don't know who you think you're talking to, but I already told you I'm not gon' keep taking a backseat while you do your own thing. If I'm to stay with you, you're going to have to learn to share. Understand?"

Shaad fervently nodded his head to get Raine to let up on the baton, sucking in a deep breath when she finally removed the instrument from his neck. "Yea, I got it."

"So, you'll always tell me the truth? The full truth? And, nothing but the truth?"

"Uh-huh," Shaad answered offhandedly, turning his head as he did so in a show of reluctance. Unfortunately for Shaad, the prolonged obstruction of his breathing must have affected his ability to deceive as Raine didn't fall for his go ahead the way most usually did, instead calling him on his noncommittal response.

"Na, you need to agree to be straight with me, keep it 100 always," she declared seriously, staring Shaad in his eyes as she enunciated each word. "I saw you and G talking at the club. I presume he asked how you knew me, and since you had that nervous look you only get when you're sexually flustered at one point, I inferred that you said something like partner that can be misinterpreted as opposed to something straightforward like navigator." Shaad tried to turn away and not admit the truth behind her inference, but Raine wouldn't let him and his actions and expression told her all she needed to know. "So, if I'm your partner you need to treat me like it. . . At least when it affects me or others around us. Otherwise, I'll leave you here and catch that boat myself. Got it? "

Shaad hated the position he found himself in. By nature, he was rather deceitful - never lying but rarely honest - and often settled into a gray area with his statements. Though he tended to be more honest when speaking with Raine anyway, he was hesitant to make such an agreement as then he'd be bound by his word, a bond he took quite seriously. But, he wasn't in much position to refuse; he just had to be thankful that Raine softened the conditions somewhat. Plus, the genuine emotion that Shaad glimpsed behind her eyes as they stared into each other's focused orbs showed him that this meant more to her, it went deeper, than just money or control. It hinted at something in her past. But, even so, it wasn't simple for Shaad to come to a decision, no matter how coerced it may have been. "Fine," Shaad finally agreed. "I'll be straight with you. Complete honesty. Just be sure not to ask me any questions you don't really want the answer to," he finished, managing to turn the agreement back on Raine, if only by a small bit.

Raine seemed quite satisfied with the terms she'd just gotten if her wide smile was any indication. But, it was the little twinkle in her eye that had Shaad worried as she recovered her usual attitude and demeanor.

"First question," Raine began, bending over so she could speak directly into Shaad's ear since he'd sat up. "Do. . . you. . . want. . . to. . . fu~ck. . . me?"

Shaad's entire body instantly stiffened as Raine gave each word deliberate pause on her skillful tongue. He knew he'd come to regret succumbing to her demand, but he never figured it'd be so soon.

"Nevermind; I guess I already know the answer to that, don't I," Raine rhetorically questioned, directing a suggestive wink to Shaad, doubling the size of the lump already in his suddenly dry throat. "But, seriously, what do you plan to do about Vega and Big G?"

Shaad wasn't sure how long he'd be able to take this. He already figured Raine could, at the least, push his limits in a fight, but, her teasing aside, she was every bit as crafty as him, if not more so, and could switch gears without a moment's notice in conversation. Even worse, she carried no qualms about turning all her skills and charms on a crewmate - the captain no less - and (dare he say) friend. Surely, Shaad figured, no other pirate captain (or any classification for that matter) in all the Blues or Grand Line had to deal with a plight of that caliber.

* * *

"How much longer until we're there?"

"Half a day or so, captain."

As their black ship sailed largely unseen against the backdrop of the night sky, the captain, Shaad's father, stood next to a solidly built man almost twice his height and at least three times the weight at the head of the ship, watching the vicious waves whipping up ahead of them. Shaad's father wore a conniving smirk as he addressed his first mate, "Once we get close, have the ship brought in under the cover of the hurricanes."

"Yes, captain," the large man instinctively answered before his captain's words fully sunk in. "Wai- Hurricanes? Does that mean -"

"But of course," the captain answered gleefully at his first mate's apprehension. "Who better to prepare the scene than him? You know our boy, Tocar, has a long standing hatred of Ol' Joe. It would be quite rude of us to leave him out of the festivities at this point."

"What about his brother," the first mate inquired, the question turning his captain's expression dour.

"I told Tocar to keep him in check, but that likely won't be enough. Prepare for the worst," the captain warned in a stern tone. "They definitely won't let Joe die, but outside collateral is sure to be heavy."

* * *

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._ The Marines' Fleet Admiral, a lean, statuesque man - the unblemished, chiseled features giving him the appearance more resembling a model than a warrior or diplomat - sat behind his desk, a stern look on his face, shuffling through a stack of papers. He was interrupted from his work by the knocking at his door. Not even bothering to look up, he bid the person outside to come in.

"Sir, there's an emergency," the lower ranked marine declared with a hasty salute.

"What?"

"The Murderous Sage's flagship, Pantheon, is headed towards Arnot Isle."

"What about our men stationed in that area?" The Fleet Admiral's voice remained firm and even despite the rising panic in his subordinate's overall demeanor.

"I don't know, sir," the messenger responded, finally dropping his salute but remaining at full attention. "After they reported The Pantheon passing the perimeter, we lost contact with them. All efforts to reestablish contact have failed."

Upon hearing that, the Fleet Admiral finally looked up from his desk, his blue-eyed stare intimidating to the marine even from behind his long, golden locks. A scowl then affixed itself onto his features as a low growl escaped his throat before he firmly issued orders.

"Send word for the Admirals to assemble immediately."

"But, Fleet Admiral Samael -"

"I said to gather the Admirals," the Fleet Admiral commanded fiercely as he shattered his desk with his open palm, having suddenly reached the end of his patience with the entire situation. "The Baron's actions have grown increasingly bold and harder to contain over the past three years. If we let him continue unchecked, the world's balance will be in shambles before long."

"But, that might start a war," the messenger countered, his voice shaky under the Fleet Admiral's intense aura and domineering tone.

"And balance is already out the window," a new voice interjected, the owner of which had suddenly appeared against the wall of the room without either occupant noticing. The voice was calm and even, unaffected in any way by where he was or who was around him. But, as soon as he spoke, the Fleet Admiral lashed out as if to strangle him, imploding the athletically built, middle-aged man's head in an instant with a single hand.

But, instead of blood splatter and bone fragments, a hazy blackish vortex swirled in its place before expanding outward until the man's head reappeared undamaged. The stranger then continued speaking, ignoring the brief loss of his head. "Relax. I'm not here to fight; I was only hired to spy on you. But, if you're really calling the Three Admirals together, I'm going to be a lot busier." A larger vortex then began to emanate from the man's torso, drawing his entire body in without affecting the room around him. However, before he was completely gone, he delivered one final statement. "You should probably know, though, that 'The Titan' won't be answering any such summons."


	20. Earthquakes and Raine

**Earthquakes and Raine**

The air was thick and the tension palpable, for this night was cast in utter darkness, the very moon too frightened to show itself. The only illumination came from a man almost seven feet in height, his skin black as coal. But, his eyes shone a fiery red as tiny cracks splintered all over his solid physique, slivers of deep scarlet peeking through. As no words were spoken, the sound of this massive man's fists clashing against each other resounded throughout the silent night, accompanied only by the whipping winds that raged on.

While he continued smashing his fists together, the cracks on his skin growing larger and more numerous with each powerful impact, a deep, guttural laugh emanated across from him. The source was a man almost as large but with his size almost completely localized to his round belly and solid, brawny arms. As the tempo and intensity of the first man's fists crashing together increased, the cracks on his skin extended to the ground in the form of extensive fissures splintering and expanding on a grand scale, geysers of boiling steam and rushing magma bursting forth. Meanwhile, the second figure's boisterous laugh never once faded or waned as - one by one - with a flick of the finger, a miniature twister formed around each digit giving him five on each hand.

The two sides gathered power and focused their energies, preparing for a final clash. The first man brought his earthen fists apart, holding them there for an extended period, while the second raised each of his beefy arms up and behind him, bringing them arcing forward - ten vicious tornados following in their wake - just as the first slammed his fists together with earth shaking force. Tornados crashed down on the first figure, the destructive winds drilling into their target with unimaginable power, at the same time the first man released an almost primal roar and a huge, scorching fireball exploded outwards before the earth violently ripped apart, rocketing towards the second in a blast of rock, magma, and scalding vapor before the destruction spread out through the entire area as if set off by a bomb within the Earth's core. As each attack powered forward, the area exploded into a massive ball of earth, wind, and fire that lit up the night sky for miles and scarred the land so much so that the area would need a vastly extended time to recover to normal conditions if it ever did at all.

* * *

"And who might you be?"

"That's of no concern; what's important is what I can do for you." Raine spoke confidently; she was dressed in a hip hugging, pinstripe skirt suit with her long hair tied up into a classy side ponytail with the bottom portion wrapped up and tied around the ponytail as she addressed a group of beautiful young women dressed in sleek and expensive, yet highly revealing, outfits. "My boss is looking to expand," she added after the apparent alpha of the group, an alluring brunette in a strapless pink and black dress with strategic cutouts and barely there length, harumphed at Raine's boisterous claim.

"And why should we care," the attitudinal woman replied with arms akimbo.

Raine remained admirably composed in the face of this woman's flagrant disrespect, and she responded without missing a beat. "One of the BMF's top caretakers just got taken out by some nobody." While these women were a far cry from the corner hoes of the Lower West Side, they were still in the service industry, under the employ of the Black Mafia Family if the BM tattoos they each sported were to be trusted (which of course they could). And, while those tattoos were meant as a clear warning, there was little else that could promptly be done should that warning not be heeded. "I know for a fact that the main culprit for that attack wouldn't dare commit such an atrocity against one of Sangre's brood."

Each of the women's expressions changed at that. Word of the assault on the Black Mafia Family and their top moneymaker had begun spreading across the top dogs of the island already and within the week it would have proliferated to all facets of the society. And, if the made men weren't safe, there was surely no haven for the lowly whores in their employ. Plus, the higher tier escorts (such as these girls were) would surely be prime targets should order not be restored in time due to the high demand and value they bring from the more illustrious clientele.

An expert negotiator in her own right, Raine used that opportunity to push her point home. "My sources also tell me that two of your fellow girls also disappeared on that night. Even if this did all start from one man's greed, it'll be your ilk that suffers the consequences. Girls of your esteemed level, especially, deserve the superior protection that only Mr. Sangre can provide." Raine let a glint of satisfaction cross her lips in response to the pensive expression each of the women wore. Man or woman, Raine could manipulate them expertly, a skill she had to master early in life to survive. She had these women in the palm of her hand and she knew it. But, pushing them further in that moment would serve no positive purpose; time was the only catalyst needed to bring them around at that point. And, in that vain, Raine handed the alpha female a professional looking business card with the logo of the hotel her and Shaad were staying in and a false name before parting from the group with the words, "I'll be in touch," just as a few well dressed, amorous young men headed their way, no doubt to request their company for the night.

"Be safe," Raine offered, gifting a coy smirk to the attractive man at the head of the little gang as she passed by them on her way out the door.

The man paused for a second, his eyes following Raine out the door before he and his went to engage the fine women at the bar in subtext-ridden conversation. It was a game that both sides played professionally, unbeknownst to them that they were all now merely puppets on Raine's elaborate strings.

Raine meanwhile went to several other locations she'd extracted from _invested_ third parties where she found even more of the BMF's prostitutes and petitioned them with the same offer, each coterie of girls as receptive as the last by the end of it. She'd done what she needed to do; now it was up to Shaad to take care of things on his end.

* * *

Shaad banged the heads of two men larger than him together and let the bodies fall to the floor as he stepped aggressively through the double doors of an otherwise nondescript locale, approximately half a dozen men in total on the ground behind him. As he stepped into the establishment, nearly every eye in the place immediately landed on him and a big, burly dude in a black muscle shirt and loose fitting jeans was quick to impede his path, scarred arms crossed imposingly. Shaad lifted his gaze from the chiseled torso to the man's scowling mug glaring at him with one eye, the metal eyepatch clamped in place of the other only serving to bolster said intimidation. Shaad's left hand slowly reached back to the hilt of one of his swords, but before any further action was taken, a voice called from across the room.

"Stand down," commanded the lone person who had yet to look Shaad's way, a man seemingly more focused on his next billiards shot than the young man who'd just barged through the door.

Shaad complied, as did the large man standing in front of him, before turning to greet the man who'd spoken with a nod of recognition. "Big G. . . How have you been?"

Big G simply continued to line up his shot a few seconds longer, taking it and banking the eight ball into the side pocket. "My win," he declared, standing erect and finally looking toward Shaad. "Can't complain. What can I do for you?"

"Raine and I will be leaving this island in a few days," Shaad informed.

"Not surprising; I heard you two had gotten into a spot of trouble. Need help securing a ship out or something?"

Shaad had had his suspicions, but that remark confirmed them. Even though, word of the assault had surely spread among the most connected people of the city, nobody outside of the Black Mafia Family should have known he had anything to do with it aside from a few patrons at the brothel he attacked. But, none of them would've gotten a good enough look to tell the full story later on anyway, not that he figured they'd live long enough to tell if they did. "Na, I was hoping to utilize your experience."

"Ha, I ain't never heard it put like that," Big G laughed as he motioned for his partner to rack 'em. "Makes me sound old." Shaad was about to offer his apologies but G waved them off before they even left his mouth.

"You've been in the Grand Line and all around these waters," Shaad began. "I figure you know where the strongest fighters usually reside."

"You looking to avoid those places," Big G inquired.

"Not exactly," Shaad offered. "I'm hoping to be able to stop at a few."

Big G released a hearty laugh at that answer. No matter what sort of deals he may have had going in the background, this young man interested him, actually reminded him of himself in a few ways (not that he'd ever let something as minor as that get in the way of business). "I can think of a few."

Shaad was unsure of what was going through G's head after that. The gangster stayed quiet for a long while after that, focusing on his game of pool instead. While he did occasionally open his mouth to trash talk or vocalize his disappointment, it wasn't until halfway through that he spoke to Shaad again. "There's Ein Archipelago, Frulynt Island, and the Disappearing Atoll to name a few, but I'd stay away from Mammoth Cay if I were you. And, the Brawlin Strait may be of interest to you. It's just an offshore stop-over, but a good fight is easy to find there if that's what you're looking for."

In the time it took Big G to list off those places, he went on a bit of tear and knocked in the rest of his balls and sunk the eight ball before laying his stick on the table and demanding, "Pay up."

The man he'd been playing pulled out several bills from a thick fold and laid them in G's hand with a defeated groan. "You're pretty good," Shaad commented after the second straight win by Big G.

"Oh, you play?"

"Haven't in a few years," Shaad answered truthfully. "But, I know the rules."

"Care to step in then?"

"Sounds like fun, but I'll need some time to warm up 'fore I even think of putting a bet down," Shaad prefaced, seemingly unsure of just how rusty his skills may have gotten after almost four years.

"Then how bout best three out of five," Big G gladly offered.

Shaad pretended to mull the offer over momentarily before answering with a wide smile, "Sounds fair. What's the ante?"

"You're the challenger. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, if I did happen to win, I'd just squander money, so how bout that chain around your neck? Shaad wore an almost predatory smirk as he pointed to the gold chain replete with a diamond encrusted 'OG' letter pendant made of white gold.

The pensive expression Big G wore as he fingered the heavy chain around his neck was exactly the reaction that Shaad had been aiming to elicit. Shaad waited with that same challenging stare as the rest of the pool hall looked to Big G for his answer. There was really only one answer he could give and after a few seconds silence, he gave the answer Shaad fully expected to hear. "Sure, I'll put up my chain. But, can you match such a bet from your end?"

Big G offered the response as a bit of provocation, looking to force Shaad to back out of the bet he'd first proposed. But, Shaad defied expectations with a wager that none expected, especially Big G. "How's 15,000 beli sound?" Shaad could sense Big G preparing to try and overvalue the over the top piece of jewelry, but that was promptly ceased as Shaad finished his offer. "And, Raine will serve as the center stage dancer at Paradise for two nights before we leave," he finished, eliciting a bit of surprise from even the stoic, unflappable Tiny standing off to the side in the usual attire.

Big G had to catch himself before he openly salivated at the very real possibility of the illustrious Raine dancing at the center of his flagship nightclub. That alone would bring in enough money to cover three such necklaces once word (and pictures) spread. While G was momentarily speechless, though, there were a few men in the bar who had not yet seen Raine and thus couldn't fully appreciate the full value and implication of Shaad's wager. Those who had been at Paradise the night of Raine's drunken escapades tried to explain to their clueless compatriots just why it was such a big deal, but. . . A picture is worth a thousand words, and seeing Raine saunter sexily into the stale beer smelling pool hall with a briefcase in her right hand, her generous curves and long, luscious legs on full display in the low cut white blouse she'd paired with a sinfully short denim skirt, the clacking of the inconceivably high stilettos on her feet resounding throughout the silent room.

Raine looked as if she'd stepped straight out of almost any straight man's fantasy and into that dull room - where she certainly seemed to have no place - and each patron stared accordingly, with unabashed hunger and lust. Big G jumped at the stakes before Shaad had time to realize just how much he'd potentially been had for, getting the recently defeated man to rack the balls while the two competitors got set. Shaad, though, seemingly paid none of that any mind as he turned and greeted Raine with a warm smile that hid his own forbidden desires at just how incomprehensibly, jaw-droppingly sexy Raine looked. "Glad you made it," he stated, accepting the briefcase and opening it on the pool table so those around could clearly see its cash contents. "How'd you find me so fast, though?"

"I simply followed the bodies you left lying in the streets, wasn't hard," she answered smoothly after greeting both Tiny and Big G with a kiss on the cheek, the kiss to Big G allowing those behind her to catch a brief glimpse at the underside of the firm and supple globes of her round ass as she bent over to kiss the shorter man, knowing full well what she was doing as well as the effect it had.

With everyone so thoroughly distracted, no one saw the wink Raine aimed at Shaad - though they probably would have thought nothing of it even if they had - and Big G was caught slightly off guard when Shaad said to him, "You bust first."

"Huh? Oh, of course." Being a man fully deserving of his station, Big G recovered quickly and admirably well, his thoughts aligning enough a few shots into the first game for him to say to Shaad, "I meant to ask why you decided to knock out so many of my men."

While Shaad could have answered with a remark about needing to find G's location (which would have been at least partially true), he chose a response that intimated more of a casual threat. "A bit of friendly warning, that's all," he declared coolly and nonchalantly, a small smile on his face as he mouthed the rest. "Show you that an attack on me (direct or indirect) brings about heavy loss on both sides. . . I could've always killed them, after all."


	21. Rollercoaster

**Rollercoaster**

It was past midnight when Shaad and Raine strolled into their hotel room. As they stepped out of the lift, Shaad pulled the gaudy necklace he'd won from his pocket and eyed it. Raine placed her arms on his shoulders and examined the jewelry as well from over his shoulder.

"Why put up that much money for a necklace and not even wear it," Raine inquired.

"I needed it for my plan; I told you that."

"Uh-huh," Raine sighed, playing with hair on the back of his neck before reaching for the necklace and placing it on him. As she adjusted the heavy chain, she posed another question. "Care to tell me why everyone in that bar eyed me like that when I walked in?"

"Like what," Shaad replied, already thinking on his next move as Raine wrapped her arms lovingly around his neck.

"Like they knew something I didn't."

"I'm sure that was just your imagination," Shaad stated, attempting to step forward away from Raine's gentle embrace. "They were probably the same looks of lust you elicit from most men."

Raine's embrace tightened just enough to keep him in place, and she turned her head to speak directly into his ear, her breathy voice sending shivers through his entire body. "No, I'd recognize those. This was definitely different." Shaad tried to create some distance without being too obvious, but that was totally ineffective. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid," Raine warned.

"I-" Whatever Shaad was about to come up with was cut off as Raine tightened her arms even more around Shaad's neck, briefly cutting off the breath to his lungs. That gave Shaad the better sense than to continue whatever yarn he was about to spin. "There was another detail to the wager," he finally answered, slipping out of Raine's grasp at the same time and turning to face his navigator.

"What kind of detail?" Raine sauntered towards Shaad, her voice gentle and threatening all at the same time.

Shaad, though, stepped back each time she moved forward to keep a constant distance between them, his voice hesitant as he spoke. "Just remember that I knew I'd win."

"What kind of detail," Raine repeated.

"Just something to ensure he agreed."

"What-"

"I said you'd dance in his club for a couple of nights."

"What!?"

Raine had backed Shaad against the bathroom door. But, her outburst gave Shaad the time to slip inside and lock the door.

"It was all a ploy remember - the money, the bet - just a ploy to get his chain."

Raine slammed a fist on the door and, in the sweetest voice she could muster, requested Shaad come back into the main room. Shaad, for his part, ignored her words, cutting on the shower and calling out over the pounding stream of water that he needed to wash up before getting some sleep.

Shaad stood calmly beneath the warm water spraying onto his back, the sensation putting his entire body at ease. He was relaxed and deep in thought. So in his own world was he that he failed to notice when the bathroom door was opened and closed in quick, quiet succession. Shaad stayed like that a couple minutes longer before throwing his head back and running his hands through his hair, heaving a large sigh at the rejuvenation he felt. However, that feeling didn't last long before he was startled from his little nirvana by Raine's oh so lovely voice.

"That frosted glass really does take away from the view."

Shaad's hands immediately came down and he spoke with a start. "What are you doing in here!?"

"Relax," Raine suggested, waving away his anxiousness without moving from the seat she'd taken. "I'm not still mad."

"That's actually not my main concern right now! Why are you in here? How did you get in here?"

"I picked the lock so we could talk," Raine offered as if it were the most obvious thing at that moment.

"Then let me get dressed and we'll talk outside," Shaad frantically responded, reaching for his towel. He was further shook up when he looked out, after falling to grab his towel off the rack, only to discover it wasn't there but instead in Raine's hand.

"See, therein lies the problem. You agreed to be straight with me, but you use every opportunity to avoid open dialogue so you don't have to answer my questions. . . I've found there are three main ways to get answers that someone doesn't want to give." Shaad's outstretched arm fell slack and he leaned back against the inside of the shower door, the feeling of the running water still peppering his skin having faded to the back of his mind, as he listened to Raine continue. "You can reward them - a quid pro quo of sorts - or deceive them. Then there's force. . . Now, for some reason I can't fathom, you reject my rewards - an admirable quality - and you're not the type to acquiesce to my demands just from a bit of force (plus that wouldn't exactly be conducive to a healthy partnership). Additionally, you're too wily and smart to capitulate through trickery."

Shaad was unable to hold back the chuckle that bubbled past his lips at that.

"What?"

"I think that may be the first time you've complimented me."

". . . That's not true. . . I've remarked that you have a truly impressive physique."

That - particularly the way she said it - shut Shaad up as he crossed his arms and closed his eyes, a noticeable shade to his tan cheeks had anyone been able to see.

"Anyway, that leaves us with options like this until you stop trying to use whatever little loophole to not tell me things."

Shaad heaved a sigh of surrender. "Fine; what is it you wanna know."

"Details."

". . . As you know, I've already upset the chapter head of BMF, I'm fairly certain G has something planned for us, and liberating Vega will surely bring no shortage of ire from Sangre's side. As I see it, the only way we're getting off this island alive is if those three sides are too busy looking at each other to notice us. That's where the pendant, and the hoes, comes in. We convince BMF that Sangre's side is pushing in on their game, point Sangre's side in G's direction for freeing the fighters, and we're helped by the reality that G and Luo are actually working together in some form or other. All of that just leaves us with G to worry about, and, lucky for us, he doesn't seem like the type to dirty his own hands. So, after I free Vega and convince him to join us, we'll get to the ship and we're home free."

"After _you_ free Vega? Where am I in this plan?"

"When the ship docks here, you're getting on immediately. You'll wait for Vega and me there. This transport was commissioned by Uncle directly; none of the families can attack us on that ship without crossing him."

Raine briefly looked annoyed at being protected but that soon passed as she cooed, "Aah, worried about my safety? How sweet," before adding, "You're lucky I don't like fighting or I'd rip out your testes for the insinuation." Her voice never lost its pleasant coo, but Shaad definitely got the point.

Again, Shaad ran his fingers through his hair and spoke. "Listen, I wasn't trying to offend you, but this whole situation simply has too many dangerous variables; it's best we move in as small a number as possible. As captain, if something were to go wrong, it's up to me to protect the crew (in this case that's you)."

A few seconds later, Shaad no longer heard the aggravated tapping of Raine's nails or her foot on the bathroom tile. "OK captain, how can I thank you?"

Shaad silently thanked the heavens for that bit of friendly sarcasm before answering simply, "Hand me my towel." He then listened as the shower door opened a little. Reaching out, he turned off the water with one hand and grabbed the towel with the other. Turning into the towel, he offered thanks.

However, he felt himself pressed against something soft in addition to the towel, and his eyes shot open in response. Before him stood Raine with nothing but his towel covering her, their (almost) naked bodies pressed together and their faces mere centimeters apart. She offered him a naughty, sultry smirk and craned her neck to lightly press her lips to his.

Shaad wasted little time breaking the illicit contact, his mind overwhelmed and blank at the same time. But, looking at Raine - the too small towel trying its damnedest to keep her covered while her delectable cleavage fought for freedom - and her enticing smile, Shaad's defenses and self-control crumbled quickly and he hungrily locked his lips with hers, his hands going to her hips as he held her curvaceous body against the slippery wall with his own. The kiss was sloppy and frenzied, and the two eventually had to break for air, giving them each a moment to collect their bearings and think.

* * *

Tremors and gale force winds rocked them, but two men calmly strode across the tumultuous landscape even as vicious hurricanes wreaked havoc on the area around them. Shaad's father, the Baron, and his first mate were both well aware of what had occurred, and while the first mate may have felt some unease or apprehension over his captain's decision on who to send ahead, neither man showed or felt even the slightest bit of fear.

"We're close," the first mate announced as the pair came to a deep crater that had filled with lava.

"This reminds me of the first time I met Ol' Joe," the Baron reminisced with a smile as he surveyed the extensive destruction. "Remember that, Grendel?"

"Yes, captain. You almost died from the injuries sustained in that fight," the first mate, Grendel, answered evenly.

The Baron's initial response was a simple smile. "Yes; I did underestimate his. . . tenacity. Who would've thought lava was that hot?"

Grendel merely shook his head at his captain's simplicity.

"The only reason I didn't finish him off then was because it took all my energy just to stand over him. Good thing, though. We've both been through a lot and come quite a ways since those days of reckless youth."

As they walked further, thick black smoke clouds blotted out the night sky and the beginnings of a raging fire beckoned their attention. Stepping through the crumbling entranceway of a ruined, smoldering mansion, the Baron immediately saw his subordinate, Tocar Zeit, lording over the bloodied and beaten Joe Neinz, much of Tocar's crew making themselves scarce after one glance from the captain and first mate.

"You've seen better days, 'Calamity' Joe," the Baron greeted the helpless heavyweight tied to a chair, ignoring the throngs of men that hurriedly shuffled past him.

"Samedi," Joe spat, cursing the man with as much venom as he could muster. His rage drove him to push against his binds to no avail as Grendel took another step closer and raised a meaty fist.

"Actually," Samedi interjected, holding an arm in front of his first mate, "it's Baron Samedi now. My father passed some time ago, and I ascended to the throne of Thanatos. But I'm sure you already knew that. True, I could've gone with King, but Baron Samedi just has a certain je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?

Pain radiated through Joe's skull as he struggled against his mental fog and the thick chains that bound him while Samedi rambled on. He coughed and choked and, in his rage, nearly strangled on his own blood as it spilled from his mouth and the pitiful sounds of his wife, moaning from the floor, became muffled, then softer before seeming to die out altogether.

It was the first notice the Baron took of the woman and a frown affixed to his features at the sight. "Was all this really necessary," he asked, knowing the answer was no.

"Apologies, sir. My brother got a bit impatient while we waited so I let him have his fun."

"Is that why we passed three smoldering towns on the way here?"

"No, that happened while 'Calamity' _Jane_ and I were fighting. He's currently preparing the house for his 'Grand Finale'.

Samedi massaged the bridge of his nose out of frustration and groaned before addressing his target, Joe. "We'll have to speed this along then. But, I must say, I never would have expected you to become a Schichibukai."

Little girls' screams rang out from a bedroom down the hallway, interrupting further commentary, and Joe's world went foggy for a moment as his heart was wrenched by the pain of his grandchildren. His babies!

But as the children cried out, "Pa-Pop! Pa-Pop!" over and over again, screaming in fear and begging for his help, Joe was reminded how helpless he was. These babies were his heart and his soul. And right now they were screaming and crying and begging for him to save their lives.

Joe was a veteran pirate and he knew the rules of the seas well. Shit, he'd helped write the latest volume of that muhfucka. He'd come up and made a name for himself alongside many of the generation's Yonkou and other top names. So, from the moment the island was put in uproar and overrun by Tocar's crew, Joe had seen how things would unfold, and it wouldn't be good. It had been a while since Joe led a vicious raid without care of life, property, or retribution, but some things never changed, and he understood how many aimed for his head.

As if on cue, Tocar's brother came down the stairs, the echo of the girls' screams still going strong in the man's wake. Joe blinked through the blood that was running into his eyes as he fought to see the men responsible for mutilating his wife. Miranda was sprawled on her back, her beautiful mouth brutally sodomized, her bloody, pulverized hands limp beside her. She wasn't fighting or struggling anymore, having ceased all movement, and that scared the shit out of Joe.

"Miranda," he screamed despite the blood filling his mouth. Again, he strained against his binds and his busted head exploded with the agony of a million firecrackers as his broken heart detonated with killer rage.

Those bastards had put a hurting like few others on Miranda. Abused her and tossed her around like a common whore, then violated her womanhood and shredded her mouth right before his eyes. Joe trembled, burning with cold fury.

This wasn't the work of men. The way of pirates with any shred of decency. Only savages filled the ranks of Tocar's crew. Animals in every sense of the word.

Samedi saw the boiling hatred in Joe's eyes and a part of him felt for the man he once called a rival. "I truly am sorry it came to this, Joe. You must know this isn't personal; I know the value of family and wouldn't want them dragged into bullshit like this. But, there's something I need from you."

Joe, though, was beyond words. He'd accepted his loss and the fate that came with it. The surprise had come in the way they handled his woman. They smashed the tips of her fingers with a hammer, pounding through her nails and bursting her flesh open like grapes as she screamed out in shock and agony. It had been years since Joe had renounced his brutal, wicked ways and became a Schichibukai, but even at his lowest, when he'd been practicing and teaching the absolute worst sort of depraved, gutter behavior, there had always been some measure of manhood in principle in his actions. There had been limits.

But Tocar and crew lived by no such rules. They'd taken low to a new level, one where no act was too dastardly or too foul, no boundaries were unbreachable, no victims were too young or too innocent, and absolutely nothing and nobody was untouchable or off-limits. It was the precise reason they'd clashed so often in the past. They were exactly the type he wanted to rid from the world, heartless fiends who gave even the murky title of pirate a bad name. And, for the man who would wield such monsters as a weapon, there was no redemption.

"I'ma kill you," Joe tried to scream as Samedi and Grendel turned and exited the once lavish mansion. Samedi wore a tense expression on his face as he contemplated the next move. "That's three Schichibukai down. We've completed our goal, but-"

Tears of outrage filled Joe's eyes as Tocar's brother, Saiko, a stout thug, stepped over Miranda then grabbed her by her feet and dragged her closer to the chair so her husband could see exactly what his steel spiked club had done to her. It was one of his favorite weapons and had the advantage of doubling as a useful torture tool. It could be used to beat his victims to a shredded, bloody mess, rip them in the ass, or he could choose to rip their mouth or between their legs. Didn't matter. He enjoyed it. And, it hurt like hell for his unfortunate victims.

"I'ma fuckin' kill you!" Joe screeched at the sight of his wife's brutalized, lifeless body. She was wearing her favorite yellow blouse and jean skirt that she looked so good in. She had been tortured mercilessly and her naked thighs were smeared with blood. Her tongue protruded from her mouth and her eyes bulged in her head.

Joe bucked in his chair in a futile attempt to attack. The excruciating pain of grief and helplessness surged in his body, and despite all the years he'd spent rehabilitating himself, all he wanted at that moment was bitter revenge. In the slowest, most painful ways possible.

"You're dead!" he cried, heaving in his chair from side to side. Joe stared down at the battered body of the woman he had loved for damn near the last half of his life and let out a tortured roar. Piercing guilt, grief, and the burning desire for vengeance surged in him. "You backbiting little bitch-ass punk! You're dead!"

Saiko wore a sadistic, malicious grin and laughed crazily.

There were more of Tocar's gang moving through the house, and Joe knew they were picking through his stuff and stealing whatever they could carry out.

"Let's go already," Tocar complained as the girls shrieked loudly from their room.

The sound of their shrieks rose in the air and the smell of burning flames wafted through the large, multi-story house. The girls' screams were now rising to an anguished frenzy and Joe moaned as he felt their physical and emotional terror.

'Break free!' he urged his granddaughters in his mind but the billowing smoke was sure to kill them. Oh, the flames! 'Break free!' Irish knew death would come easier for the twins if they could face it in each other's arms. But if he'd been unable to break free and save his wife, who he loved more than his next breath, there was no way those poor little girls could break free to save themselves.

Smoke was spreading through the mansion rapidly now and the girls' screams were wild and heart wrenching. Joe wished he could cover his ears and block out the horrible sound of their beautiful voices.

And, at that moment it was Joe who broke.

"Let 'em go," he sobbed in miserable defeat. His eyes met Tocar's in broken submission, imploring mercy from a youngster who was young enough to be his son. "Let my girls live. Samedi can have whatever he wants. Please, just let my babies go!"

That caught Tocar's attention "What is it exactly Samedi wants?"

* * *

"Is something wrong, sir?" Grendel asked, showing a bit of concern for his captain who seemed unusually preoccupied with a single thought.

"You've been with me since I first ventured out on my own." Grendel simply nodded. "The captain we served under was completely ruthless, but his strength and reputation afforded us some protection in those years before we grew strong enough to not need it any longer."

Grendel remained silent. The first mate remembered those days all too well, but understood Samedi enough to know he would get to the point at his own pace. He never did anything any other way.

"It took me a number of years after we left to fully understand, and begin to combat, just how powerful the influence he'd had on me was. I accepted Tocar under my banner 'cause I saw a few of those same reckless, destructive qualities in him. But, his brother is all too happy to persist in that metaphorical squalor. . . I'm not one to take the moral high ground on anyone; I'd be a hypocrite if I did with what we've done. But, what Saiko did back there. There's no place for that sort of thing under my command."

"What do you want to do about it?" Grendel knew his captain had already placed the incident they'd just left in the past. Samedi despised public discord among his crew more than almost anything (even in front of dying foes). No matter which way that discord went. For that reason, a few of the more _uninitiated_ members of his crew would sometimes act first then ask forgiveness later not understanding the full ramifications of such insubordination.

"Tocar still has potential; he's already strong enough to beat Joe and his mind is just starting to catch up. But, his brother's a liability. When we get back, send Baraqyal to visit Tocar and explain the situation. . . Oh, and have him retrieve what we came here for. Joe _will_ break. I just couldn't stay there any longer without ripping Saiko's head from his shoulders."

* * *

Saiko looked down at Miranda's body on the floor, then touched the pistol in his waistband and laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Man, shut the fuck up already! 'The Unnatural Calamity' Joe, my brother's archrival, sitting here begging like a little bitch; quit embarrassin' yoself! Them babies ain't going nowhere but to hell with you and the rest of ya fam!"

"But they kids, man. . ." Joe moaned. "They just innocent little kids. . ."

"Fuck them kids!" Saiko snapped. "Just shut up and choke on your blood like your woman sucked on this metal dick!"

"Please," Joe pleaded with his captors, not giving a fuck how weak he sounded. The smoke was getting worse now, and so were the little girls' cries. The man once known as 'The Unnatural Calamity' howled so agonizingly that he sucked in the toxic smoke and choked on his cries.

Tocar and Saiko coughed against the smoke, too. Tocar pulled his shirt up over his nose and walked away while Saiko, smiling gleefully, backed away toward the door after him. Joe watched helplessly through the grayish haze as the two men jetted out of the house and into the fresh night air.

'I'ma get ya'll back,' Joe vowed as swirling gray terror swept over Miranda's body and rose like a cloud over his head. 'All of ya'll! Somehow, some kinda fuckin' way, even if I gotta do it from the pit of my cold fuckin' grave, I'ma pay ya'll muhfuckas back!'

Joe Neinz squeezed his eyes and coughed as he struggled to take his final breaths. The last things he heard were the heavy footsteps of Tocar's savage killers running out of his house, and the pitiful sounds of his granddaughters' dying screams.

'Somehow, someway,' Joe thought as smoky blackness descended upon him, 'I'ma get ya'll bastards back. Especially you, Samedi. You're a dead man.'

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow, that was a long, fast road downhill. Wait, is that a detour coming up. F**k it, guess I'm taking the scenic route.


	22. When A Plan Comes Together

**When A Plan Comes Together**

Shaad nervously looked into Raine's eyes. He was hesitant to proceed despite every fiber of his being screaming at him to do so. Shaking his head and muttering to himself, he took a half step back, but his foot landed on a slippery spot in the shower and he lost his balance. Sprawling forward, Shaad ended up where he began: his strong body pressed against Raine's supple curves, right thigh parting her long legs.

All thought flew out the window and Shaad claimed Raine's lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than hungry but every bit as aggressive as the last. Raine returned the kiss with equal fervor, her hands grabbing his head and pulling him in as her tongue probed his mouth. The kiss was filled with lust and passion but eventually they again pulled apart, this time with Raine lightly holding Shaad back.

Shaad so hungrily eyed the delectable curves just barely hidden from view before him that he missed Raine biting her lower lip and the look of uncertainty that accompanied the subtle action. Raine's fingernails gently clawed at Shaad's firm chest, drawing his eyes back to hers and his gaze turned from one of hunger to confusion as Raine turned away and slipped out of the shower without a word.

Left alone in the spacious shower, droplets dripping off the hard edges of his physique, Shaad was as lost and confused as his exposed manhood, jutting proudly toward the spot where the object of its current affections scent still lingered.

Raine had quickly discarded the towel, tossing it onto the chair just outside the shower and at the same time revealing she had never actually been as nude as she appeared to be with it wrapped enticingly around her voluptuous figure. In no time, she was alone on the dimly lit roof, staring out over the bright and bustling cityscape that made up the core of Blackwood. The star-filled night sky was clear, but her mind was not.

Silently, Shaad emerged from the staircase that connected the penthouse to the roof. Having hurriedly gotten dressed in a tank top and shorts, Shaad now watched Raine, wearing only a barely there bikini, watch the people hustle below.

The highest point of the entire island, the view from there was unparalleled, but that also meant it caught the full brunt of the chill in the air on that night. He knew it wouldn't be good to dawdle too long under the conditions, but Shaad dared not bother Raine in that moment.

* * *

"Apologies for the intrusion," an attractively meek young woman bowed as she stepped through the pair of large, gold-emblazoned doors into the bedroom of a beautiful, statuesque brunette. Without waiting for any type of acknowledgment, the woman continued. "The young master has been located."

The taller woman, dressed in a flowing white nightgown, then gave the first sign of even noticing the other woman's presence, spinning on her heel and demanding, "Where?"

"In West Blue, but-"

"Continue," the woman demanded as the messenger cut off her own statement.

"He seems to be traveling with someone and apparently he has a bounty as well. There's no name or clear picture, but it's identifiable nonetheless."

Wrinkles marred the older woman's age-defying beauty as her brow creased in anger. "And, where's that no good Baron or whatever he's calling himself these days?"

The messenger was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic, but was trained enough not to let it show. "He's still about a week out, ma'am."

". . . Good. Have all available commanders meet me at my palace tomorrow."

With that edict, the meek, young woman humbly bowed and turned to leave, bowing to a new entrant that paid her little mind.

The newcomer wore a scowl. Wiping away a strand of the dark orange curls that fell to her shoulders, she released an exaggerated sigh. Dressed in a simple black bra and tights, her wild demeanor contrasted the elegant surroundings in much the same way the clearly defined muscles of her arms and abs played against the more subtle strength the proud woman before her exuded.

"So, does this mean we're going after the brat?"

A light, bemused scoff came as the immediate reply. "That's still my son you're talking about, Freya."

"Sorry," Freya spoke, a hint of playfulness to her softening tone. "Should I ready the crew to bring back your son, Captain?"

"My dear Rashaad was born on a night just like this one," the brunette spoke softly, letting her thoughts wander as she gazed at the red moon dominating the skyline. "As you know, I opposed many of his father's so-called training methods, but this may actually be good for him. So, no; Chan'll keep watch, but maintain a comfortable distance. However," Freya, sensing the slight change in the air about her captain, smirked ever so slightly. "Hiding my son from me for the better part of four years isn't so easily forgiven. I think it's time Shaad's father and I 'spoke' again."

"I'll get started on preparations and strategies immediately." Freya openly smiled at the prospect of what was sure to be a lively bout.

"No, this should really be a heart-to-heart," the brunette clarified, a darkness descending over the room as thick clouds drifted in front of the ominous moon outside as if reading the alluring woman's very thoughts.

"As you wish," Freya bowed, an excited smirk pulling at the edge of her lips. "But, really, Chan? The boy's not even in the Grand Line yet. Isn't that a bit much?"

"Go, I'll speak with you and the other commanders tomorrow." Hearing the door close, the woman resumed looking out over the lapping waves as the dark clouds had again rescinded from view. 'It's a mother's duty to protect her child,' she thought with a smile, remembering her gentle little boy. But, total relaxation evaded her as she sensed a presence behind her. "What now," she growled, more than a little agitated.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend," an upbeat voice spoke cheerfully as a lean man began to take shape from a vortex, sporting a Cheshire grin that flashed his pearly whites from the shadows of the room.

"Friend might be a stretch," she commented, visualizing the mock hurt on the man's face even without turning around. "Get on with it; I'm tired."

"Pushy as ever, aren't we, Leanne? Anyway, -

* * *

It was early morning when Raine finally came back in, wrapped in a blanket Shaad had laid on one of the chairs situated around the rooftop pool.

"Thank you," she stated softly, a gentle smile on her lips, before planting a light peck on Shaad's cheek. The moment was quiet and peaceful. Raine chuckled quietly as a small smile spread across his lips. He was quite the deep sleeper, but he seemed to be having a pleasant dream. The morning's silence, though, was interrupted by the ringing of the bedside den den mushi.

"Who's calling this damn early," Raine scowled after letting the snail ring enough times to assure herself it wasn't an accident.

"Whoever it is better have a damn good excuse," Shaad groused, visibly aggravated about being stirred from his sleep.

Rolling over and grabbing the receiver from the snail's shell after a few blind grasps of air, Shaad answered with an involuntarily frustrated, "What?"

"Sorry to disturb you at this late hour, Mr. Cornelious." It was the petite, blonde manager and she sounded almost edgy. "But, I would be remiss if I didn't inform you immediately that Mr. Sangre will be returning from his trip sooner than previously expected."

Shaad's cheeks flushed red, and Raine, looking on with an irritated expression, was puzzled as to why. If Sangre showed up before their plan was set in motion, they'd be in trouble. Shaad didn't mind upsetting and double crossing either of the other two Kings on the island, but he was being completely honest when he said he wouldn't want to go against Sangre (certainly not when the imposing man was close enough to do something about it).

"We'll need you and your partner to vacate the room within the week. If you still require board, we'll be more than happy to accommodate you; of course, adjusting the rate of your prepay."

They had at least a week to spare. Shaad exhaled the breath he'd inadvertently been holding in. "No problem; we were actually leaving in a couple of days anyway."

"In that case, come see me tomorrow and I'll refund your change."

"No need; consider it gratuity for exceptional service. Bye, now." Shaad hastily hung up. He hoped the extra money would at least go a short way towards curtailing Sangre's eventual rage at losing his champion fighter (not to mention all the people they'd have to go through just to get to that point).

"What was that about," Raine inquisitively questioned.

"The start of a countdown," Shaad answered vaguely, mentally accounting for the preparations and variables surrounding the happenings to come.

* * *

Shaad approached the mountainous expanse that encircled most of the island. With high cliffs overlooking jagged rocks and choppy waters, it was no wonder this place was called the 'Ridge of Corpses'. It was a nearly perfect natural fortification. The mountains were too high to scale by any typical means and there was only one path into the secluded valley, blocked off and isolated by a strong river that went about halfway into the island and provided fresh water.

As Shaad grew nearer the place Big G had told him to look, he saw with his own eyes that the natural defenses weren't his only challenge. Two men stood guard at the lone entrance while, according to the information, a total of eight snipers watched over the area from hidden nests in the mountain's crests. But, Big G's information couldn't tell him the snipers' locations; they were too well covered. It was a testament to the quality of G's network to get that much as Shaad's eyes barely saw any hints of four, at most five, snipers.

While he'd thought long and hard about this plan and what steps to take and moves to make, Shaad had somehow managed to overlook arguably the most important aspect: how to get past the guards. There was no stealthy way to do so with the midday sun high in the sky illuminating the area. Sure, he could barge right through the front or, given his powers, expend the energy to zip up the mountainside and ambush a sniper, moving from there. But, he didn't feel like it.

Instead, Shaad merely strolled up to the front entrance, swords in their sheaths, and walked openly up to the guards who had almost literally seen him coming from a mile away as he didn't even try to hide. 'Raine should be to the ship by now,' he figured as he got close enough to hear the guards' warning shouts.

* * *

'He better not make me wait too long; this cargo ship looks boring as fuck.'

Dressed in her traditional casual attire of a tank top and jean shorts, Raine could see the port as well as where a large ship that dwarfed the smaller boats in port had docked. Dozens of men moved crates onto the ship and even more off, but aside from the size nothing identified it as anything more than a typical merchant vessel. In other words, completely and utterly boring.

Moving her eyes from the ship down, she noticed a small group of thugs hanging at the end of the docks. Nearing them, she cleared her throat, signaling she needed them to move. But, as opposed to complying, the apparent spokesman, unsurprisingly, just looked at her with a lascivious grin as the others spread out and surrounded her.

"Well lookie here, boys, quite the treat indeed," he whistled obnoxiously.

"I take it that means you're not going to move then," Raine tiredly remarked.

"Sorry, babe, but we're going to need you to come with us. Big G's orders."

"If he wants to speak with me, he'll have to come here; I got other plans."

"That wasn't a request," one of the other men called out, stepping out of line from the rest of the group.

Raine ignored the overzealous youngster's outburst - he was probably only a year or two her junior - and addressed the main man with her response. "Neither was mine."

A malicious smirk crossed the lips of the man directly in front of her and he barked out a chilling laugh. "Well, you heard her boys."

Those words drew hoots and hollers from the others while onlookers backed away from the scene or ignored it altogether, smart enough not to get involved in someone else's business.

"Six strong men against lil' ol' me? However will I. . . Yea, no, I don't play damsel in distress very well," Raine declared, snapping open the extendable baton kept on her right thigh just as one of the men in front of her pulled out a thick, heavy chain.

As the man swung that chain around and raised it above his head, Raine slipped down and took out both of his legs with one swing of her baton. The attack shattered his shins and toppled him, his uncontrolled chain taking out another man who decided that was a good time to attack Raine from behind. Rising and twisting simultaneously, a third attacker fell to one of Raine's vicious swings, this one colliding with the man's open jaw.

Raine's quick dismantling of half their number in such short time gave the remaining three pause, though the most vocal one held his confident expression still. Meanwhile, the other two each flipped open a switchblade. The first one to come was a shorter man, and, using the superior reach of her baton, Raine put him down with a simple overhead strike that cracked his skull and sent him crashing face first into the ground. To his credit, the fifth man moved faster than Raine anticipated, forcing her to step back and disarm him before crumbling him with two clubbing blows to the torso and a knee to the groin that had him go down in the fetal position.

Out of the corner of her eye, Raine only barely saw the last one slip a translucent red pill into his mouth before he began laughing maniacally.

"Oh, this feeling really is euphoric."

Raine frowned at the man's increasingly manic behavior, but didn't lower her guard though she still never took up any obvious fighting stance. He charged without warning, reaching out for her. She simply leaned back out of reach. Snapping her leg out at the same time, she caught the man with a hard kick to the balls.

The man was stunned but did not fall, lowering his gaze down to where he'd been struck and back up again, an ever widening expression of glee plastered on his face. "That didn't hurt at all. . . In fact, I kinda liked it."

Raine was put off and puzzled by the man's strange behavior. She recovered quickly, though, equipping a disarming smile while creating some distance. "Then you'll love this," she declared, spinning the metal baton in hand before moving to meet the man's reckless charge. Just as she dipped under a lightning fast strike ready to counter, though, someone else interfered in their clash, a large man's fist appearing from behind her and colliding head on with the attacker's own fist.

Raine could hear the bones in his arm crunch from the impact and rolled out of the way of the subsequent blood splatter. Whether the attacking man was truly numb to pain or not, he helplessly fell to his knees, the fractured ulna piercing through the flesh of his arm. Raine's eyes went from the gruesome scene to the man responsible as she stood up, poised and confident as always.

"Thanks for the assist, Tiny. I'll leave cleanup to you; I've got a ship to catch." She tried to turn and leave the two men, but her path was suddenly blocked by the now mangled body of her adversary, eyes rolled back with the imprint of thick fingers embedded around his head.

"Your presence is called for at Paradise. . . Now."

"I'm assuming that's not a question," Raine coyly commented, prompting a serious scowl from the imposing bodyguard.

For the first time, Raine adopted a fighting stance, holding the metal baton in front of her like a sword. "I think I'm gonna have to refuse anyway."

After a brief skirmish, the dust settled and onlookers watched as Tiny dragged a bruised and rowdy Raine by her hair along the rough, uneven ground. In between curses and thrashing about, Raine found time to demand answers. "Don't think you're gonna get away with this! I'ma get you and your bitch of a boss! Don't worry, though, I'll keep you both alive long enough to explain the reason behind this shit to me before tossing your dumb asses into a tiny, shallow grave! You hear me, you quiet muhfucka!? I'm gonna -"

Raine's struggling and shouting, though, even as it drew no shortage of stares from curious and intimidated individuals, garnered no reaction from the stoic Tiny even as she hit and clawed at the hand firmly gripped around her scalp. But, no response was necessary from the formidable man as Raine's angry threats were interrupted by the ringing of a baby den den mushi in Tiny's pocket. Recognizing Raine's voice, the person on the other end quieted her by speaking without even waiting for Tiny to speak. "My dear Raine, please calm yourself. Neither Tiny nor I want to have to hurt you."

"Shove it, bastard. The only thing I want from you is goddamn answers, you fucking asshole. Then I'll make you choke on my baton until the Devil himself pries me away from your fucking corpse."

"There's no need for threats," Big G informed. "I'll gladly explain everything; you've just been caught in the middle of a very dangerous game your little friend is playing."

"You calling anybody little must be a joke, short stuff," Raine defiantly shouted, the remark receiving an angered snarl and scowl from the transponder snail. "Oh, the lil' pup don't like that, huh," she pushed, further infuriating the unseen gangster.

"That's it," Big G growled. "I was gonna offer you a job in my club or maybe let you go after you acted as bait to get that headache Shaad here, but now you'll be lucky if I don't make you the star attraction in my newly minted prostitution ring."

"What!?" Raine's exclaim was filled with a mix of revulsion, apprehension, and anxiety, not only at the threat, but at what else was said and implied.

That reaction earned her a condescending chuckle over the receiver. "Yes, maybe now you'll show me the proper respect," he stated, his tone taking on a darker, more serious tone than usual. "After your boy pissed off the BMF, their leader and I worked out a little deal. In exchange for capturing Shaad and handing him over, I get to expand my territory and my business by taking over a portion of their domain and operations. And, with your little extracurricular activities in recent days, I'd also be able to procure an agreement with Sangre for the people responsible for almost bringing a war to this island."

"Sounds to me like your stature isn't the only thing that's small," Raine goaded, the haughtiness of her voice incompatible with her current situation. "You can't hand him over to two separate sides."

"Oh, but that's the beauty of it; I wouldn't actually have to turn him over to anyone. If he just happened to die. . . while escaping the gladiator prison camp, for example, I'd simply recover his body, provide proof of death to both sides and then turn his head in to the government for the bounty. 20 millions not much, but it's pretty good for an upstart."

Raine had almost ceased her struggling entirely as she listened to G lay out his entire plan. As he got to the end, though, Raine allowed herself a contented smirk before remarking, "That's actually not a horrible plan. Too bad for you it'll never actually happen."

"Oh; and why not?" Raine's continued resistance, knowing there was no escaping Tiny's grasp, was actually beginning to amuse G.

"Like I told the men you sent to stall me, I don't do damsel in distress."

As the words left her mouth, Raine was somehow able to lift herself off the ground, performing a feat of athletic excellence by jumping up and twisting Tiny's arm back at an irregular angle, loosening the vice like grip he had on her just enough to turn her body, wrap her strong thighs around the offending limb, and take Tiny to the ground with a skillful armbar.

However, the hulking example of a man couldn't be felled for long with that move. The inexplicably named Tiny lifted himself to his feet with nary a grimace even as Raine wrenched his arm with all her might in an attempt to break or, at the very least, dislocate it. Unfortunately for her, Tiny was built of sturdier stuff than anyone else she'd ever been up against. Faced fully with the futility of her efforts as Tiny gripped his hands together and lifted his arms over his head - all while Raine's hold was still applied - the gravity of the situation crashed down on her just as her back crashed into the ground from a vicious one-armed powerbomb.

Raine's head bounced off the solid ground with abandon. As her wits were slowly returning, Tiny lifted her up again to put her out completely with another merciless brain and body wracking powerbomb. But, as Raine's weakening body was lifted to the peak, something unexpected happened: a four winged raven with plumage dark as the sky before dawn flew towards them at a rapid pace. The large bird crashed into Tiny's face, and although the impact didn't hurt the powerhouse in black, the surprise of it allowed Raine to slip from his grasp, landing in a crouch behind him. While there was no time to completely gather her wits about her, she was in control of her mental faculties enough to run from the silent brute as fast as she could.

Struggling just to stay conscious and survive a physical confrontation with the muscled man, Raine was easily faster than him, especially in a straight foot race. With only the need to slow down enough to pick up her dropped baton, there was nothing standing between Raine and the pier, where the large merchant ship waited idly with no concern for the commotion erupting in the surrounding area, while Tiny lumbered behind in pursuit.

 **[Meanwhile]**

"Tiny. . . Tiny, what's going on?" 'Dammit, he must've let the call end. _Aargh_. Whatever; there's no way she could escape him. For now, I need to work on pushing Shaad towards the warehouse, and the first step in that. . .'

Big G, surrounded by an entourage of 20 strapped guys, strolled confidently and in domineering fashion through the front doors of the Onsen Hotel. As they did this, all of the action in the upscale bar that acted as the hotel's lobby came to a screeching halt. From the first person to notice the intruding King to the last man to catch on, the whole thing took only a few seconds. Some of the guest moved to the bar's perimeter, but most only got out of the way long enough to let the group pass before rushing out the front door. One thing was certain, no one wanted to be too close when one of the island's three Kings confronted the acting head of an opposing group in broad daylight.

The manager of the Onsen Hotel and acting head of the Sangre group, flanked by the buxom bartender and just under 15 organized security, swiftly moved to meet Big G in the center of the room. Despite losing out to Big G in terms of both raw power and show of force (on her territory), the petite blonde carried herself with an admirable, scene-stealing aura of confidence and swagger. She was only about as tall as Big G, but with her heels even she looked down on him, leather booklet in hand.

"I'm sorry, Mr. G, but we don't have you scheduled for a meeting today. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Her voice was strong and professional, but - his men parting to let him through - Big G stepped forward with a smile of casual indifference. ". . . Winona, was it? I came to speak with your boss. Be a dear and fetch him for me. And, I'll take a Shine Supreme since your beautiful bartender is here as well."

G's blatant disregard for where he was and to whom he was speaking angered both women, but the blonde quickly composed herself and stepped in front of the brunette, her head held high. "Sangre's not here at the moment, so you're just going to have to leave willingly or be escorted out."

In time with her words, the security force stepped forward in unison, but G's men wasted no time in answering the subtle challenge, each man drawing and pointing a gun at their suited counterparts. In the same instant, the bartender had an ice pick at the King's throat and both sides seemed to be at a stalemate with the advantage unclear.

Big G, though raised his arms in symbolic surrender. "I didn't come here to fight, just talk. But, if you won't hear me out, I guess you don't mind having your top fighter stolen out from under you." A cocky smirk crossed G's lips as surprise and wonder donned on Winona's expression, only briefly showing itself, and she ordered her men (and the bartender) to stand down with his men following suit. The small woman glared at Big G in silence, trying to ascertain his motive before commanding simply, "Explain."


	23. Escape, Pt1

**Escape, Pt.1**

"Did I say something wrong," Shaad innocently questioned as at least a dozen people surrounded him - many more were standing by, watching - their various weapons bared threateningly including a few pistols pointed at him. "I get it; I lowballed ya. How's 40 million sound?"

Shaad looked around as there was no response, only the sound of cocking guns and feet shuffling for position. He let out an exasperated sigh in response.

"Okay, now you're just being greedy."

"We already know you're here to try and steal Vega," a slender man in baggy jeans and a loose fitting T proclaimed, his sharp, angular facial features locked in a scowl while the nostrils of his narrow nose flared in annoyance.

"Steal," Shaad questioned, eyes wide with surprise. "I'd say 40 million is quite generous."

As repayment for his flippant attitude, Shaad earned the familiar feel of a gun's muzzle pressed against each cheek and his temple.

"Okay, okay." Shaad's voice bordered on frantic as he tried to negotiate his way out. "45 million, but that is the absolute highest I go."

To prove the seriousness of his threat, the man standing before Shaad silently ordered two more guns pressed against Shaad, one against his other temple and the other pressed to his lower back. Shaad swallowed the lump in his throat at the two newest introductions and raised his hands in surrender.

"You're serious; I get it. But, Tazz, let's consider the source. Who said I was trying to kidnap Vega?" There was a pause as the thuggish rogue recalled the conversation with his interim boss, the Sangre group's second. His face obviously gave away his thoughts as Shaad pounced. "That's what I figured. G's just pissed I hustled him in a game of pool in front of a few of his boys; he's obviously trying to get me back.

Tazz considered Shaad's explanation, but he wasn't buying in, not completely anyway. Shaad decided to use that indecisiveness to his advantage.

"Since you seem to have your mind made up, why don't we play a little game before I leave? The snipers you have watching me can join in, too."

Tazz looked on with uncertainty as Shaad withdrew a bundle of 9-inch long toothpicks from his jacket. Using his thumb and forefinger to roll the band lower on the bundle, Shaad cued the sharp pointed sticks in all different directions.

"This games a bit like billiards so I'll break." The guns pressed against Shaad had relaxed a little, and before any of the surrounding guys could react, Shaad threw the bound bundle of toothpicks into the air. "Break Shot!"

While tossing the toothpicks into the air with his right hand served partially as a distraction, Shaad's left dropped to the grip of his sword where, in a flash, he drew the weapon and impacted the base of the bundle with the hilt of his sword. The result was like a grenade as several of the men were peppered with extra sharp skewers. Even the snipers perched on top of the cliffs weren't safe as each one was pierced by at least one (usually more) of the weaponized projectiles.

However, Shaad was unable to apply the force necessary to make anything but a lucky shot even potentially lethal, leaving most sticking out of soft flesh like the arms or hands as well as a good deal that struck individual's faces and eyes. His primary goal with the tactic was indeed the snipers, and each of them suffered at least a shot to the eye with one being struck in the trigger finger, causing an inadvertent shot to ring out resulting in one causalty - bringing the total number to just two - with one more potentially on the way as one last toothpick fell from high in the sky, gravity alone making the straight shot lethal.

"Oh, I forgot to call it. 8 ball, straight ahead." Shaad smirked as he anticipated the toothpick barreling through Tazz's skull.

But, that death, nor impact, ever came. Tazz deftly caught the long toothpick between two gloved fingers, even the friction induced heat reduced to nothing in his hands.

"Hmph. You're stronger than you look."

Tazz's only response was to throw the lone toothpick back at Shaad, picking up enough speed to be dangerous even in the limited space. But, with a confident and amused grin, Shaad caught it between his teeth, adjusting the angle with his tongue before spitting it back out and into the foot of one of the nearby gunmen.

Shaad had barely gotten his head back around before Tazz connected with a right hook across his jaw. He then swished some of the ensuing blood around in his mouth and spit it out, the sound of triggers being squeezed apparent even over the ringing in his ears.

"Wait, wait! Don't shoot," Shaad panicked, his smile faded and both arms again raised high in surrender as he nervously raised his head and looked around. "Wow. . . Didn't think that'd work. Umm. . . Thanks, I guess."

"Reinforcements will be here soon to escort you back to the hotel and clear up this mess," Tazz informed. "Will you cooperate or die here?"

"Yeeaaa- No."

Before the last word had completely left his tongue, Shaad had struck a few of the men nearest him with sudden, sharp elbows, sending them flying back and giving him some room. By the time the rest had recovered their wits, Shaad had dashed towards Tazz, catching him in a headlock as a large squad's worth of guns were aimed at them.

"You wanna declare war against the Sangre group?"

"No; everything I've done has been to avoid that."

Tazz merely scoffed in response, finding it pointless to talk with a dead man. "Shoot him already!"

Letting Tazz go, Shaad jumped into the air, drawing both swords as he did so. He landed lightly on his feet behind the gunmen, swords held wide at his sides, and heaved a deep sigh. Shaad turned and stared in disbelief at Tazz who silently glared back, both men watching as the row of men between them simultaneously fell, fatal gashes across all their chests.

The bodies dropped with a thud, but Shaad paid them no mind. Nor did he care about the mob surrounding both he and Tazz, granting his rapt attention to the leader instead.

"Are you crazy? Telling them to shoot at you like that; they could've killed me."

"My men are better than to inadvertently hit me."

Shaad's voice calmed considerably at that. "Oh good. I thought you might've had some Devil Fruit that made you untouchable or something. . . That would've made this gamble too rich for my blood. I mean, there's already something going with those gloves; I'm guessing metal in the knuckles."

"I don't know how you thought this was gonna play out, but you're not walking out of here," Tazz threatened.

"You're right," Shaad admitted. "I'm running. But, only because I'm in hurry and have no desire to fight your reinforcements."

"You really think you can get away?"

"Only one way to find out." At that, Shaad dashed forward, throwing a hard straight at Tazz's midsection that sent the slender man skidding back and into a few of his men who caught him. Shaad looked on with a smirk. "Just a little payback for that cheap shot earlier. Didn't expect you to block it, though; you're better than I expected."

Standing up, Shaad watched as Tazz jerked himself away from his men's grasp. Adjusting his gloves, Tazz looked to finally be getting annoyed with Shaad's games.

"Before we get started, how bout you tell me where the keys to the cells are located?"

"Get past me then you can worry about that."

Shaad heaved a sigh. "Things can never just be easy, can they? Fine; have it your way."

Both fighters instigated a charge simultaneously, their fists colliding at the center. A small skirmish ensued before Shaad's fist was caught and a double tap to the ribs and jaw sent him scrambling back. Despite that, though, it quickly became obvious who really had the upper hand as Shaad bounced back and went in again. Tazz tried to meet Shaad's charge, but staggered briefly and suffered a hard left hook for it. Shaad caught his wrist as he reeled. Pulling him in, Shaad delivered a bone crunching haymaker that sent Tazz flying.

Shaad massaged his sore jaw as he waited to see if Tazz would get up. "Without my powers, my punches are a bit like stingers: they lack that oomph but you'll definitely feel it later. The impact stays with you; it's bothersome. That and their speed are the only advantages to an otherwise weak punch. But, when I have time to cock back, I can put some formidable power behind 'em. I'm sure you can attest to that. My abilities just take it all to another level. . . That's my take anyway. What's your opinion," Shaad questioned, ending his diatribe as Tazz pushed back onto two feet, blood pouring from the presumably broken nose of the deceptively strong gangster.

Tazz was quick to try and take back the offensive, looking to save face as the men under him watched on. He lashed out with a combination of punches, but Shaad weaved around them all. From the smirking face, it was obvious Shaad was toying with him. That was made all the more clear as the pirate spoke while still dodging the fierce onslaught.

"I originally intended to save my energy, but I realize the faster I end this, the less I may be forced to expend. Besides, after I escape from here, I'll have a couple of weeks to recover anyway."

Shaad's flippant attitude, however, backfired in avalanching fashion. When Tazz performed a jump/spin technique, Shaad failed to accurately gauge range. That inability to do so resulted in a small scrape on his cheek. While the wound was shallow, the surprise distracted Shaad from seeing the uppercut to his solar plexus that came next. The solid shot buried itself under Shaad's ribs and winded him.

Tazz was relentless in his attack. With Shaad bent over in front of him, Tazz coupled his hands together and struck Shaad's spine with a devastating double axe handle paired with a vicious knee to the chest. As Shaad teetered forward, Tazz tossed him aside like garbage but he wasn't done there. Tazz was pissed. He was going to kill Shaad.

Tazz bounded towards Shaad, swiftly drawing and opening a butterfly knife as he did so. But, Shaad had recovered enough to land in a three point stance. The two enemies locked eyes for a second, the calm breaths almost in sync with one another. Tazz was upon Shaad in no time flat, the slender blade of his butterfly knife bared and ready. Shaad shot forward as if launched from a cannon. A split second later, they each stood with their backs to one another. The scene was still and silent. Tazz's knife clanging on the rocky ground resounded through the area. Shock, and a tinge of fear, enveloped the surrounding mob as their leader fell face first onto the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath him. Shaad, taking advantage of their frozen state, strolled deeper into the blocked off ravine, hardly relaxing his silver bladed sword even as the enemies before him parted nervously.

"Where do you think you're going," a more muscled man with scars on his face and no shirt loudly demanded. "You just killed Tazz; there'll be no escape for you."

"He's not dead yet. I hope this small gift will keep Sangre off my ass just a little bit longer."

That wasn't the whole truth, though. Shaad had held every intention of killing Tazz, but if he hadn't let up at the last second, Tazz's butterfly knife would be sticking out of his chest instead of the ground. The half-truth did provide Shaad some much needed time. While the remaining leaders debated their next course of action, Shaad got some distance between him and them.

Of the men put in charge of overseeing the arena fighters (as with most of Sangre's group as a whole), very few were cowards. In fact, most were fairly formidable fighters in their own right. And, in a gang where rank was decided by strength and merit, one decision could be the difference between leading or serving for the rest of your life.

With the strongest among them having already been felled, a handful stepped back, prioritizing Tazz's life as well as their own over distant, unpromised rewards. The ambitious majority, however, saw opportunity (in the form of Shaad) walking away and went after it. Sangre led a prideful crew for the most part, believing one on one fights to be an honorable and accurate method. As such, his group and he were widely respected as the strongest on the island.

Ambition, though, proved a stronger motivator than pride as the remaining men moved after Shaad en masse, knowing that whoever came out with his head would receive unheralded recognition. Hearing the earth shaking movement of men, Shaad turned and faced the large group with an apathetic frown. "I'm sorry you've decided to pursue me. You should've focused on Tazz's health instead of moving up in your boss's eyes. . . **Path of Cocytus!** "

Drawing the black blade, Shaad swung both swords to the side instead of at the mob breathing down his neck. The disinterested swordsman then turned his back to them and walked away. Those foolish enough to rush after were met with a gruesome end as boulders from the mountains to the left and right avalanched into the valley, crushing everything beneath them and blocking the path.

It didn't take long for Shaad to find where the fighters were being held (once he finally convinced himself to actually run). Only a handful of guards had stayed behind to watch the prisoners, and none put up significant resistance. Shaad frantically searched the area for the keys, but came up empty. Strolling along the line of cells in the mountainside, Shaad came across a familiar face.

"Old man, how are you?"

"I'm a bound and collared slave who's not even a main event draw anymore. How do you think?"

"Yeah, sorry. Stupid question. Better one: where are the keys that unlock these cells?"

The old man shifted his considerable weight in the limited confines and Shaad saw what he meant when he noted he was no longer a main event draw: the bottom half of his left arm had been sliced off, a serrated weapon Shaad guessed from the wound. It had been seared shut but without cutting it down the wound could still get infected.

Shaad's amateur diagnosis almost caused him to miss the old man's answer to his most recent query. "Tazz keeps the keys at all times."

A frown fell on Shaad's face as he looked in the direction he'd come from. 'That blockade won't hold much longer. I'll have to cut open the cells.' That wasn't a problem, he just didn't particularly feel like it. The bigger issue was, "What about the collars? There has to be key for them."

"Only Sangre can unlock the collars. But, he's only done it once, so nobody knows if there's a key or not."

"Unnghhh! Shit can never just be easy."


	24. Escape, Pt2

**Escape, Pt.2**

Shaad groaned loudly, his annoyance and laziness both reaching a peak at the conundrum facing him. "Fi~ne, I guess I'll just have to find another way." 'God, I hope this works.' After a few seconds of irritable dialogue with himself about how nothing was going as planned, Shaad finally turned his attention back to the people in the cell. "So, between you and me, where do they keep the weakest fighters?"

Many of the men were hesitant. From what they'd seen, Shaad wasn't exactly in one piece mentally; they figured it better to take their chances as slaves than be executed for assisting an intruder. The old man that knew him already, though, held no such worries, almost immediately answering, "That way; in the cells closest to where they keep Vega holed up."

Shaad looked in the direction the old man indicated and started heading that way, thinking out loud, "Well, that's convenient."

Once there, Shaad looked to his left and right. To each side there was a cramped cell with about 5 more men then it could uncomfortably fit. It was difficult to make out the individual people, but Shaad recognized one of the men in the cage to his left. He turned that way and assessed the door and lock as well as the bars of the cell. All anyone saw was him gripping the handles of both swords before a crosscut sliced through the front side of the cell. The overflow of people literally fell forward as the bars and door fell to the ground in four equal quadrants.

Using one of his swords, Shaad pointed to the fighter he recognized: a thin man with little muscle definition that he'd watched barely win a fight when he attended the illicit event with Raine their first week on the island. "Yea, you'll do."

The slim fighter simply stood there as Shaad circled him like a shark in the water. After a couple of laps around, Shaad finally stopped, tapping the explosive collar with his sword.

"Stand still now."

Shaad sliced at the collar and not a second later, a large explosion engulfed the both of them. Many of the prisoners fell to their rear, mouths agape, at the close up explosion. When the smoke cleared, only one man was left standing, the other a charred corpse on the ground.

"Don't worry. I'm okay," Shaad declared, looking at the nervous faces around him. "Okay, who's next?"

No one dared step forward so Shaad just picked one. "You'll do," he said, pointing to an overweight man that didn't look particularly skilled at anything other than throwing his sizable weight around. The man didn't move an inch so Shaad loathingly went to him.

"Same thing; stay still."

Again the result was the same. So, when Shaad asked for a third volunteer, the fighters were clamoring not to be chosen, pushing one another towards the seemingly psychotic youth. Shaad looked down at the man that fell at his feet. "No need to thank me; I'm gonna free all of you." A collective silence fell on the area as they inwardly hoped for Sangre's group to hurry back.

Steadying his hands with a deep breath, Shaad again sliced the volatile collar. The result was only slightly better (or worse, depending on perspective) as Shaad successfully cut the explosive and connection at the front, but just missed the one in back and the man suffered third degree burns all along his back that would surely kill him slowly and painfully.

All Shaad had to do was turn to them this time to incite panic among the freed prisoners designated the weakest. When the person that would be next landed before him, Shaad glared at the shorter man with a scowl. The unfortunate man was shaking like a leaf, and the way Shaad was looking at him certainly didn't make it any better. "Either be still so I can successfully free you, or I'll kill you and then free you." Shaad was growing increasingly frustrated as the lingering threat of Tazz's forces and reinforcements undoubtedly drew nearer, and logic was obviously suffering for it. He needed progress. . . and now. But, this man's shaky constitution was definitely not helping. "Calm down, all of you! I have to cut two explosives, detonating wire, and an electrical circuit board from three separate points simultaneously! Omelet. . . crack eggs. . . etc! You get the point! . . Now, stop fucking shaking!" The sheer intensity in Shaad's voice stilled the nervous man as Shaad steadied his breathing and went through what he needed to do in his head.

The air was still and the helpless men watched with bated breath. Eyes closed and hands covered ears as the onlookers anticipated another loud bang. But, it never came. Instead their bodies instinctively shook as two pieces of metal bounced on the ground. The fighters slowly opened their eyes to see that somehow the man was still alive. His collar cleanly cut in two at his feet.

Shaad was hit or miss with the next few as he perfected his technique and timing. After clearing only two cells worth of people, Shaad was already breathing heavily. Pushing his body so extensively was taking a toll, but he wasn't near finished. While Shaad tried to recover just a fraction of his spent energy, the freed fighters did what they could to open the remaining cells. Brute force and makeshift tools proved effective with their combined efforts and after half an hour every cell was open. All except for one that is. But, that one could wait.

"All of you, line up," Shaad demanded of the newly released fighters. After stringing together a run of 20 with no casualties, Shaad was feeling confident as well as worn out. I'm going to take care of all of you at once. So stand back to back with equal space between each person." Shaad directed and waited as they all got in position. Surveying the line that extended further than he could see, the young pirate estimated how much time and energy such a task would take. Doing some light leg stretches, he ordered, "Stand completely still for five, six seconds. Hell, don't even breathe if you can help it."

Shaad pulled out the last toothpick he had left and placed it in his mouth, rolling it with his tongue for only a moment before letting it fall out. Before the long toothpick hit the ground, Shaad was already a quarter of the way down the line, flawless in that stretch. As he passed the seven second mark, he was just coming to the three quarter point. At just under ten seconds, it took Shaad almost twice as long as he'd projected to free every prisoner in that line from the oppressive collars around their necks.

And, if not for being so preoccupied with their own situation, the entire group would've seen Shaad trip up and stagger forward, almost collapsing from exhaustion, as soon as he slowed enough to be more than a strong, slicing wind. He moved unevenly on his feet as he drunkenly tried to turn around, completely losing his balance as he could finally look upon his own handiwork, and fell backwards. The only thing that stopped him from hitting the ground was a strong, muscled frame with about fifty pounds and half a foot on him catching his collapsing body.

'Damn.' Shaad scolded himself for showing such weakness and expending himself so much for strangers. His heart momentarily sank before he looked up at the man holding him up. Thankfully, it wasn't the reinforcements he'd expected to see. It was the old man, the hint of a smile stretching his bushy, white beard.

The old man could tell Shaad was doing all he could to put up a strong front, and respected the young man's pride. As opposed to using his large hands to right the rookie pirate, he simply let his own chest and arm prop the youngster up.

"It's gon' take sum time for them to adjust to being free; you got a minute."

"I'm fine. The only thing that hurts is. . . everything. . . A couple nights ago really took more out of me than I thought."

Shaad still had plenty of energy to spare, but his body wasn't anywhere near strong enough to be pushed like that and he was feeling the effects as his entire body was basically dead weight at the moment. The old man smirked as Shaad struggled to stand on shaky legs before addressing the crowd of men.

"That one dead man ain't my fault. I said not to breathe if you could help it; he couldn't help it, but tried anyway."

The old man's smirk grew wider listening to Shaad's defiance. Shaad had kicked the man in question aside as soon as he knew there was a problem, preventing it from affecting anyone else. They were all too thankful for that to blame the life of one (or six) on their saviour. Yet, Shaad still inexplicably felt the need to defend himself; he felt a level of responsibility for taking longer than he'd said even if ten seconds was no time at all.

"I am, however, going to need something else from you all." All murmuring immediately ceased. He had their undivided attention. "How would you all like some payback against Sangre's men." The gathered men released a collective roar that shook the area. "Good; there'll be quite a few coming this way. I need you all to keep them off me for a bit."

Funny thing about stripping someone's life away from them without taking away their will to live: give them control of their life back and they're willing to put it on the line for the person they're most thankful to. With adrenaline and excitement running high, the rowdy fighters stormed past Shaad, picking up weapons and tools from the training grounds and ready to fight the world.

Once they were all past, Shaad quietly spoke to the old man behind him. "So, about how many men did I just free?"

"Just south of 200 after your uh. . . cuts."

"There was a learning curve. I thought I did pretty well." That comment earned a boisterous, hearty laugh from the old man, and he slapped Shaad roughly on the back.

The overenthusiastic pat caused Shaad to stumble, but he'd recovered enough to remain upright.

"You think they stand a chance," he questioned seriously.

"Depends on how many there are."

"Yea. . . Luckily, I don't need 'em to survive."

With a grumble and a shrug of his shoulders, Shaad paced back to the very first cells he'd opened. Between them was a metal grate securely in the ground.

As Shaad squatted down and wrapped a hand around one of the bars, he heard the old man behind him. "Vega may like you, kid, but that don't mean he won't kill you."

Shaad didn't respond, the veins on his arm bulging as he ripped the grate cover straight out of the ground and pried open the thick sheet metal plate that lay beneath it. Underneath was a deep pit burrowed into the ground some 20/25 feet deep.

At the bottom of it, Vega sat, calm and unchained. He focused on the shadow that was Shaad as light invaded the dark space. Shaad let out a whistle at the sight before he spoke to Vega from the rim of the deep hole.

"I once saw a marine use a technique that could get him out of there no problem. . . Granted, he was easily shot down, so. . . yeah."

Vega, of course, gave no reply. He did stand up, though, which made Shaad silently hopeful, but there was no more than a silent stare.

"You're gonna make me come down there, aren't you," Shaad questioned. There was no response, but Shaad tiredly groaned. "Fine."

He then jumped down into the pit, Vega taking a step back in the limited space to give him room to land. The two young men each stood tall and face to face with one another, Shaad's expression stern and unyielding while Vega wore a new, unblemished and featureless white mask. Neither gave an inch, both occasionally stepping closer until they were nose to mask. They stayed like that, silent and serious, for a good minute before Shaad ultimately broke a smile and stepped back.

"Damn dude, lighten up. I want you to join my crew." Silence. "I'm serious. I'm a pirate, and I want you to be my right hand man. . . Left hand? . . . Whatever, you get what I'm saying." Silence. "Come on. . . I'm trying to break you out. Sangre's men are coming here. . . to kill me, recapture you. You're free right now. . . And, out there (on the open sea), there's no one to say otherwise." Still, silence.

The silence persisted even longer this time, Shaad's expression shifting from apprehensive to worried and back to. . . a wide smile?.

"Yea? Awesome," Shaad declared, the smile on his face threatening to tear his face in two while he extended his hand for a handshake.

Vega never broke, though. Neither his body language nor what he didn't say gave anything away. Yet, Shaad was inexplicably excited. It showed why, however, when Vega extended his own hand, gripping Shaad's forearm as Shaad returned the action and the two affirmed their new partnership.

"Need help getting out," Shaad asked as they released one another's arm.

Vega, per his usual, gave no audible reply. Instead simply bounding up the wall, jumping from one side to the other with pure leg strength until he was standing at the rim next to the old man.

"If you could do that, why'd I have to come down here?" Shaad complained, but didn't really care as all it took was a quick burst and he was able to clear the full height in one jump.

Once up top, Shaad looked between Vega, his new partner, and the old man, one of the most helpful people to this point. "What's your name, old man?"

"Nicholas."

"Well, Nick, thanks. You've been a great help and there's room on my crew if you wanna join."

"Na, kid. I'm too old for that life now. I ain't quite as spry as I once was."

Shaad accepted the rejection gracefully. Plus, there was no time to linger. The sounds of battle could already be heard raging not far off; they needed to get moving.

The trio caught up to where the freed fighters were fighting with Tazz's men in no time flat. The battle was fierce and fairly even - though a few of the fighters shined above the rest - with losses on both sides. But, it was so chaotic that all three were able to slip through without much fanfare, simply taking out one or two each to clear the path.

As they exited that fray and came to the ravine entrance, however, they were met with a more pressing danger. The reinforcements from Sangre's group were quickly approaching over the flat, open terrain. In open space, Shaad was sure at least he and Vega could get away, but once they reached the nearest city, it would be a tough ask for even them. Or, at least him considering what Big G said about Vega's agility. It seemed those same thoughts ran through Nicholas' mind as well.

"You two go ahead. I'll buy you some time."

Against 50 elites, Nicholas would be crushed. But, Shaad wasn't one to turn down such an offer or step on a man's resolve. However, he wasn't above poking fun at a friend, even in seemingly dire situations.

"I thought you didn't have it anymore, old man."

"I'm not as good as I once was. But, I'm as good once as I ever was. . . Now, go!"

"You heard him; we need to run." Vega was the first to resume moving with Shaad lagging behind for a bit.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Shaad declared, pulling a heavy chain from his pocket.

Nicholas briefly glanced at the young captain over his shoulder. "What's that?"

"This was all planned by Big G," Shaad stated with a wink, letting the gaudy pendant drop to the ground.

Nicholas only scoffed before the two went their separate ways, Nicholas to hold off the reinforcements while Shaad easily caught up with Vega.

"Our target's a merchant ship docked at port. . . Race?"

* * *

"Dammit, where are they?"

"The Mistress' Dream is about to set sail," announced an older gentleman, overweight but well dressed, as he approached the rail where Raine was looking out over the coastal city and pressing and twiddling her fingers, no doubt taking note of Tiny prowling along the docks. "If your friends aren't here in two minutes, they're getting left behind." The merchant ship's captain then replaced the cigar in his mouth and left Raine alone on the rail.

'Come on, Shaad. You can make it. Leave that masked freak behind if you have to, just get here.

* * *

 **A/N:** I had quite a bit of fun writing this chapter. Hope it showed in a positive way. In the next chapter, the merchant ship sets sail. Will Shaad and Vega be on it, or will they need to 'secure' another way off the island?


	25. At a Loss

**At a Loss**

BRRRRR! With the tremendous roar of the horn bellowing loudly, the merchant ship departed from port.

"That's it; that's the ship," Shaad yelled.

He and Vega, running at top speed, had just entered the coastal town's perimeter. Despite making record time in getting from the mountainous ridges where Vega was held to here, they were still late. But, neither was one to give up that easily. So, the neck and neck race continued.

"We'll have to jump on."

Both young men showed off their agility as they raced through the occupied city streets. Vega bounded along with relative ease, his feet rarely touching the ground as he ran atop market stands, tree branches, and rooftops, using everything he possibly could to maintain speed. Meanwhile, Shaad weaved his way through the crowds, showing off his footwork and reflexes as he transitioned from left to right, slipping through gaps that seemed impossible for someone of his stature.

Shaad had managed to eke out a lead as Vega hopped off a nearby rooftop and it became a full-fledged foot race down the final stretch. The town behind them and the docks ahead, the people in the seaside market square gave a wide berth. The ship, however, was already too far away from the docks and moving along the coast on its way out to sea.

But, even as people continued to scramble to the wayside, one man stood pact, a large bodied man staring ahead at the retreating merchant vessel. It was perfect positioning for Shaad who, using the large man's head as a springboard, jumped onto the roof of a tenement and trade stretch that could be used to intercept the ship's path. The large man, Tiny, immediately lifted his head, his face a visage of anger, before it was pushed back down by Vega using the same trick to follow after Shaad.

Now truly pissed, Tiny released a spine tingling roar that neither Shaad nor Vega paid any mind. The bullish Tiny then charged after the speedy pair, barreling through the complex as Shaad and Vega raced along the rooftops above. Shaad finally had to take notice as a string of buildings fell in his and Vega's wake. The direct approach, and his unilateral rage, allowed Tiny to keep up admirably well despite the pirates' clear speed advantage.

As the duo neared the end of the last building's roof, a steep tilt suddenly befell them as Tiny ripped through the reformed courthouse's front pillars. Jumping off, they landed nearly simultaneously, Tiny bulldozing through the back wall almost immediately after. But, while the debris from the large man's intrusion still fell, the two young men launched themselves in the direction of a hillside cliff, kicking up a cloud of dirt right in Tiny's face and heading for the approaching ship.

Tiny fumed with rage watching the two run up the hillside, and as his aggression poured forth, alongside a monstrous roar, he struck the ground with a twin hammer fist. The earth shaking attack sent tremors rushing up the hillside, cracks forming along the jutting land mass.

It was a near impossible task to maintain balance while the ground beneath them fell apart, but Vega expertly navigated the crumbling terrain while Shaad kicked a falling piece of earth into the open air in front of them before they both jumped off the edge. Vega was a millisecond ahead of Shaad and used the rock as a launching pad to jump for the passing ship's deck. Shaad was directly behind him, but the piece of rock had already been pushed down.

"Burst." With a last ditch push, the earthen clump was blown apart and Shaad flew towards the ship as well.

Raine raised her arms in front of her face as both bodies flew towards her place on the railing. A slight breeze rushed through her long hair as Vega landed gracefully behind her, his lone braid and sash quickly settled despite the erratic exertion. Not a half second later, a hand clamped on the railing in front of her and something heavy slammed into the side of the ship.

"Aah," Shaad groaned, reaching and clamping down on the rail with his other hand, too. "Somebody wanna help me up?"

Shaad lay spread eagle on the ship's deck, chest heaving with each breath while Vega stood stock still, stoic and with barely any noticeable movement from his chest. Raine looked between the panting Shaad and impassive Vega, a mix of frustration, relief, and annoyance flushing her beautiful features. As Shaad's breathing finally slowed, he extended his left arm above him.

"Either of you wanna help me up, now?"

Raine looked him in his eyes, but didn't give him a hand. Likewise, Vega turned to Shaad, his mask indicating he was looking the captain up and down, but made no other move. Shaad's arm fell tiredly down as neither person assisted him, and he rolled over before rising to his feet.

"Screw you both," he joked in a friendly tone, earning a saucy smirk from Raine. He then turned his attention to the newest crewmember, Vega. "Well, I guess you win. But, seriously, you ain't tired? I'm spent; Imma start thinking you some kind of machine or something."

As Shaad calmed his breathing, their little reunion was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Captain Morrigan would like to speak to you in his cabin."

All three pirates looked to the man with questioning gazes. He had an athletic physique and wore a uniform indicating his position as quartermaster, the high collar and long sleeves of which hid the majority of a pair of elaborate tattoos peaking from under the expensive material.

Shaad, Raine, and Vega looked among each other for a few seconds before Shaad took a step forward.

"Let's not keep the man waiting," he smiled.

The walk through the ship was tense but silent between the four as there was a clear animosity that none chose to address, busying themselves with other things while the deck hands were hard at work all around them. The quartermaster gave a loud knock on the captain's door upon arrival, opening the door for the three to enter upon receiving confirmation to do so.

"What's his problem," Shaad bit after the door closed behind them.

Within the room, a table full of delicacies and delicious foods was prepared for them. Shaad, his mind immediately forgetting the irksome quartermaster, looked at each piece of food in turn with voracious eyes but held himself as all three looked to the portly captain seated at the far end of the table greeting them with a friendly smile.

"He doesn't trust strangers much is all. Please. Sit."

Raine was the first to move, stepping from behind Shaad and taking a seat on the right side of the table. Vega followed suit and quietly sat on the left. Shaad watched his two crewmembers take up their spots, returning their host's smile as he seated himself opposite the merchant captain.

The captain bid them to begin eating as the dining staff exited the spacious, elegantly upholstered quarters. Giving time to make sure they were alone before speaking.

"I was only expecting two of you," he stated. His eyes traveling between the three guests, he sized them up carefully, though his smile never faded, before resuming his meal.

"We had an addition to our ranks in the interim," Shaad answered smoothly, watching the captain closely for any reaction.

The captain, though, truly the experienced tradesman, played it all close to the vest and gave nothing away, speaking calmly and simply, "Your number is of little import to me, but I only have one room available for your lot."

Shaad's eyes went from Raine to Vega and back before focusing on the man sitting across from him. "That shouldn't be a problem. You've already been more than accommodating with this wonderful meal."

"But, of course. You three are special guests. Though it seems the food isn't exactly to your friend's liking." Captain Morrigan almost sounded as if he was apologizing, looking to Vega and the untouched plate of food before him.

"Apologies," Shaad offered. "He's a bit reserved. Not one for group settings, you understand."

The captain was about to nod his head affirmatively, but Raine's silky voice smoothly cut into the exchange. "Each of us has our quirks. Mine is an aversion to cheap comforts. I'm sure I'd feel more comfortable in these fine quarters of yours." Raine ignored the sharp glare Shaad cast in her direction, putting on her most captivatingly alluring gaze, eyes used to, and fully expecting to, get her way.

But, Morrigan simply laughed it off, a hearty laugh that surprised both Raine and Shaad. "I sincerely would, young lady, but for my standing. As captain, I must keep my position in mind at all times, and to lower myself would not show well. Unfortunately, all other private quarters are taken, so you'll simply have to make due for the duration of our trip together."

Shaad breathed a light sigh as Raine let it pass with an inaudible huff and everyone resumed eating, only the sound of silverware striking fine dinnerware and general chit chat breaking the subdued monotony within the opulent room. It was easy to forget Vega was even there at times as he remained perfectly quiet and ate nothing, just watching the scene in the room as if a mere spectator.

Once all was said and done, and everyone had cleared their plates (Shaad taking it upon himself to clear Vega's as well), Shaad and Raine again thanked Captain Morrigan for the food, noting how delicious it was, as the trio prepared to leave. Raine was halfway out the door with Vega close behind when the captain suddenly stopped Shaad short of completely standing from his seat.

"If you would stay, I do have a bit of business to discuss with you." The captain's voice was completely serious and devoid of the cheer Shaad had come to expect, moving the young pirate to do as was asked of him.

Raine, for her part, stepped back into the room and let the door close behind her, an annoyed expression on her face. She looked about ready to say something when Morrigan added, "Alone," in a terse tone, but Shaad spoke first, hoping to avoid a conflict as he kept a lookout on Raine and Vega out of the corner of his eye.

"They can stay," Shaad declared affirmatively. He knew he needed to take control before things went south. Besides, even his dad - one of the most untrusting people he knew - had Grendel; Shaad guessed these two would be his Grendel, his inner circle if you will. Unfortunately, he was forced into such a decision far earlier than he would've ideally liked. "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of them."

Morrigan was silent. Eyeing the three youngsters evenly, he placed both palms on the table in front of him, rising from his seat with authority and without a word. Each of the trio was put on edge, all eyes following the captain closely whilst they simultaneously fought to keep their wariness from showing. The merchant captain took slow deliberate steps, walking around the table and opening the door to a storage cabinet on the wall. From within, he pulled a single folder from a stack of multiple. After rifling through the folder's contents, he came across what he was looking for and lay a small stack of papers on the table in front of Shaad.

"I guess it's fine since this will involve all of you anyway. . . Sir Meech has a job for you."

"What kind of job," Shaad questioned as Raine picked up the stack of papers with an audible 'Hmph'.

"Simple retrieval," Morrigan summarized while Raine silently read through the details of this job. "We were supposed to receive a valuable shipment the day after tomorrow, but the courier made a poor choice in stopover islands and now he's trapped."

"So -"

"So what do you want from us," Raine interjected.

"Let me guess. You don't know exactly what the couriers' condition is - or the shipment's for that matter - so you want us to risk our lives to check on everything's status. At the very least, we should make a good decoy. That about the gist of it?"

Morrigan donned a smirk as he returned Shaad's intense gaze before turning it to a slight frown. "For someone of your strength and experience, it shouldn't be all that dangerous. A simple in and out. . . Though I would warn you not to dawdle."

Shaad chuckled lightly, his arms crossed as he looked down in contemplation. "Is that what Uncle said? Someone of my strength and experience?"

Shaad stopped laughing and looked up with a smile, ready to say something more when Raine placed a hand on his shoulder and bent over to whisper something in his ear.

His eyes briefly shown surprise, but the knowing smirk soon returned. "The Illusory Forest, huh? Now, that makes sense. . . Sure, we'll do it; I was planning on heading that way anyway," he finally answered, a predatory smile spreading across his face.

Morrigan was about to thank him, but Raine interrupted. "Hold up! What's in this for us?" She impatiently tapped her foot waiting for an answer which came after a few moments of relative silence.

"A finder's fee of 5% upon return of the shipment to this ship here."

Raine immediately saw beli signs as she calculated five percent of the shipment's worth. But, always one to aim for more, Raine recovered quickly and countered, "Ten."

"What?"

"Ten percent and you have a deal."

Captain Morrigan was quite a bit slower to reply this time around, and both Raine and Shaad could sense his hesitancy. But, they took it to mean two completely different things. So, Shaad spoke up before the merchant captain had a chance to answer Raine's demand. "As I said, we'll do it," he declared forcefully. "Five percent upon return of the specified goods."

With that statement and negotiations seemingly settled Shaad stood from his seat and extended his hand to the captain, directing Raine and Vega out as he followed shortly behind to meet the quartermaster in the hallway and be directed to their room.

"What was that about? He was about to agree to ten percent and you ruined it," Raine fumed almost as soon as their room door closed behind them. Unlike at the hotel, these walls weren't soundproofed, but she either didn't consider it or frankly didn't care as she cursed at Shaad.

"Shh," Shaad instructed, only further stoking the flames of his navigator's ire. This wasn't a deal we had the right to refuse from the onset," he explained. "Uncle doesn't make requests. He makes kindly worded demands. And, he doesn't give you anything for accepting those demands; he just doesn't kill you. Meaning that five percent is likely coming out of the captain's pay to begin with."

"Even more reason to -"

"Captain Morrigan has been more than hospitable to us thus far. And, I'm not willing to test how far that goes just to temporarily sate your greed!"

Raine was visibly flustered by the audible increase in Shaad's tone and intensity, and she clearly wanted to retort. But, she held her tongue, settling for glaring at him a while longer before stomping into the bathroom.

When the shower started running, Shaad plopped down on the bed and heaved a deep sigh. The bed wasn't as comfortable as the one in Sangre's penthouse, but it was considerably better than grass or straw (and, yes, a hammock).

"You agree with my decision, right," Shaad asked the stoic Vega, who made no reply, vocal or otherwise.

"What? Then you agree with her?"

*Silence*

"Then what would you have done?"

*Silence*

"You're no help, you know that?"

Shaad fell back on the bed, contemplating what he'd just got himself into. This was obviously Uncle's way of having him repay the debt for saving his life, but he didn't need to get Vega or Raine involved in something this dangerous. And, why him? It was a favor to his dad. Of course, forcing repayment from both sides yielded twice the results. Plus, it was especially effective when you could be sure the two sides weren't talking to each other.

Damn. No matter how Shaad thought of it, there was no other way this could've played out. He was trapped and his crew along with him. 'I'm sick of this. A pawn on somebody else's chess board. This is why I need to get stronger. It's time to become a King.'

But, even if he was intent on becoming a 'king', the sound of Raine stepping out of the shower still sent tingles up his spine. For two entirely contradictory reasons. While the King may be the most valuable piece in chess, the power of the Queen is unmatched. The bathroom door swung open, and Raine strolled out, swathed in the steam from the hot water, wearing only a tee shirt and panties. Her expression, though, told him it was the first reason he felt the understandable feeling to slink away.

"Ever since you apparently got your ass handed to you on Tatihara - a second time," she added, noting Vega's presence, "You've been talking about your uncle. I want answers. Who is he?"


	26. Better Left Alone

**Better Left Alone**

"I'm bored." 

The merchant vessel Shaad, Raine, and Vega were hitching a ride on had been at sea for almost a week and a half. They'd each fallen into a bit of a routine as passengers aboard the ship and still had a ways to go before reaching their destination. 

Shaad was comfortable in the role of passenger. No responsibilities. No expectations. He'd ventured around the ship a couple of times and knew where pretty much everything was, though none of that mattered; his only job right now was to relax and enjoy the ride. Currently, he was doing that job in the crow's nest. He'd convinced the man that was supposed to be keeping watch to relinquish that role to him - something that was easier than it probably should have been - and took his seat. 

With the warm, ocean breeze and a light mist spraying against his face, Shaad reclined in the crow's nest. Covering his eyes with his fedora, he rested his swords next to the spyglass he wouldn't be needing and tuned out the crew below as he drifted to sleep. 

He was broken from his nap by Raine complaining, though. Shaad tried to pull his fedora down further and ignore her, but Raine merely repeated her statement. 

"Wake up. I'm bored." 

"I'm sleep," Shaad muttered in response, still not stirring from his spot. 

"Oh, I'll put you to sleep." 

Shaad quickly registered the threat, snatching one of his swords and raising it above his head to block Raine's baton. But, the strike didn't come. He peeked open one eye then both, throwing his head back and glaring at the cheeky grin Raine wore. She was sitting on the rim of the crow's nest in a white top with the word evil written in pink emblazoned across the chest and a pair of turquoise shorts that hugged her full hips, legs swaying along with the ship's rocking. 

"So, you're bored. What do you want me to do about it?" 

"I agreed to follow you because I thought it would be fun. It's your job as captain to keep me entertained." 

Shaad was fairly certain that didn't make a lick of sense, but he wasn't going to waste time arguing. "Go talk to Vega; he a great conversationalist." 

"That's only to you," Raine replied flatly, not sharing the same amusement Shaad seemed to get from that suggestion. 

"Then, go play poker with some of the crew," Shaad offered more seriously. 

"I've already taken most of their money. The only option left would be strip poker, and there's only a handful of the crew good for a game of that. Though, if you'd like to -" 

"Fine, let me think of something," Shaad interrupted, not wanting to let her finish that idea. 

Raine simply snickered at his hasty response, pushing onto her feet in the small crow's nest before turning around. "Whatever; I'm going to the pool. Feel free to join me," she added sultrily. 

"Wait. Pool? Where?" 

"That large room cordoned off on the third level below deck at the back of the ship." 

"I thought that was just the ballast." 

"No, the ballast is below that in the bilge." Shaad was about to say something else, but Raine cut him off. "Well, see ya." Shaad's eyes traveled to the sight of Raine's backside squeezed into those tight shorts, and he felt a slight stirring, as she hopped over the edge and onto the deck below. 

'I should just go back to sleep.' 

'But, you're not going to.' 

'Watch me,' Shaad thought defiantly, pulling his hat back down and closing his eyes. 

He stayed like that for what he thought was several minutes, but in actuality was less than one, before his eyes shot open. He could hear the mocking laughter in his head as he groaned inwardly and stood up. 

'Told ya.' 

'Shut up. I'm just going to see what the pool looks like.' 

'Su~re, you can't even swim.' 

Shaad growled lowly in frustration and willed the voice in his head to go quiet. Grabbing his two swords, he hopped down onto the deck and made for the stairs leading below deck. Looking back to the now empty crow's nest, he briefly mused over the fact that there was no one keeping watch. 

'Eh, not like it makes a difference.' 

Shaad walked casually through the halls of the ship, ignoring those around him as they ignored him. It took a few minutes, but he easily found the pool. Hidden behind a nondescript door on an otherwise empty wall, Shaad found the room locked with a door that was surprisingly sturdy. 

'Hmm, let's see if I still remember that trick my dad taught me.' Shaad pulled one of his swords from the cross sheath on his back and stuck the tip gently into the lock. Placing his right hand flat on the door, he wriggled the sword in the lock. However, it didn't work as well as he would've liked and he quickly became frustrated with the lack of results, accidently spearing the sword through the lock as his impatience got the better of him. 

The pool area was slowly revealed as the door swung open. Shaad subconsciously slipped the sword back into its sheath, amazed by the breadth of the audaciously extravagant faux natural setting. It looked like he'd stepped straight off the ship and into a private, pristine lakeside complete with a small waterfall near the back. Shaad's eyes scanned the few trees and shrubs almost expecting to see some sort of wildlife. His attention was brought down to the water in front of him by a growing tapping noise. Raine waded there in the water with a slight frown, arms crossed as she tapped her manicured nail on the natural colored tile. 

"You know you could've knocked." 

Shaad had nearly forgotten about the door, turning around and closing it though it couldn't be locked. "I was testing an experiment. It failed." 

Shaad's answer was almost second nature. Raine ignored the blaśe attitude because she didn't much care anyway, instead answering the question that was clear on his face. "Quite nice, isn't it?" 

"It's. . . amazing." 

The smirk Raine had adopted briefly reverted back to a bit of a frown. "I was hoping you'd reserve such lofty praise for my next question." 

Shaad then watched, enraptured by the sight, as Raine lifted herself out of the water. His gaze locked, Shaad inadvertently stared as, squished between her strong arms, Raine's voluptuous breasts threatened to spill out of the skimpy white and sky blue bikini top with lotus flower designs. Shaad subconsciously licked his lips as he found himself partly hoping for the metal ring on the front to retire its futile effort. He quickly shook such an immoral thought from his head. But, as he looked up again, Raine's glorious form stepping from the water, droplets beading down her every delectable curve, easily summoned its brethren to the forefront and his mouth hung open like a kid in a candy store window. His eyes stayed with her toned frame in the tiny bikini - ninety five percent naked if not a tad bit more - showcasing all of her curves, and he watched those curves as if they were the roads to salvation. 

Raine adjusted her bottom and cocked her head in Shaad's direction with a knowing grin. "I guess speechlessness is an acceptable answer, too." 

Shaad rapidly blinked until proper function was restored to his mind and enough saliva returned to his mouth for him to speak. Wanting to divert focus away from his blatant staring, he looked up to the ceiling and completely rerouted the conversation. "This lighting looks strangely natural." 

Raine, of course, knew what he was doing, but allowed him his little respite if only for the cute and entertaining reactions it promised. "That's because it is. There's an arboretum just above this that takes up two levels. They grow fruit and medicinal ingredients there." 

Shaad's unease shown through, and she predicted his next question as his eyes jumped between her and the glass ceiling, no doubt looking for any excuse to look at her without having to meet her eyes. "Both levels are one way glass ceilings. . . We have complete privacy." 

Shaad took a step back at Raine's smooth and suggestive tone, eliciting a smirk from the pink haired navigator as she ran her hands through her long locks, jostling her full breasts just enough to draw Shaad's eye. 

"Aah," the beautiful Raine feigned offense. "You didn't come all the way down here just to see the pool did you. . . I thought you might be here to entertain me." 

Shaad swallowed thickly and Raine tittered lightly watching the young man struggle to control himself as she leaned in on the balls of her feet and looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes, giving him an unobstructed view of her wondrous cleavage. 

Shaad felt nervous and bent his arms slowly, his face that of a child scared to get caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Unease shown clearly as he reached out, watching his outstretched hands as if they were not his own. After only a couple seconds that felt like minutes, his smooth hands came in contact with soft flesh and he wrapped his fingers around her sculpted biceps, pushing her back to arms' length and adopting the sternest voice he could. 

"After you interrupted my nap, I couldn't get back to sleep. So, yeah, I decided to come down here and check out the pool I'd missed before," Shaad rehashed the tale he'd told himself. 

But, Raine wasn't buying it. 

"Oh, are you going to punish me, then," she teased, none too innocently placing a finger to those full, pursed lips before spinning around, swishing those to-die-for hips, and diving back into the water with the grace of a mermaid while Shaad could do nothing but stare at her tight, round apple bottom and perfect curves. 

Shaad was frustrated in more ways than one, but primarily at how easily Raine could, and would, sway his desires; she tested his self-control as well as his patience. He wouldn't mind getting her back, but so few options were plausible. Then, a glint shown in his eye as he came up with an idea. On a return lap, Raine saw the wide smile he sported and stopped at the edge. 

"You look happy. See something you like?" 

"I just thought of something fun we could do." Raine smiled as well, meeting his even gaze, but she wasn't expecting what he said next. "Let's have a sparring match." 

"What?" 

"I got my ass handed to me in what was essentially a hand-to-hand fight against Vega, and the same happened against the marine I faced on that resort island, only in a sword fight. My skills have gotten a bit sloppy all around, and you got a bit roughed up yourself recently. We could both stand to sharpen our skills." 

Raine stayed there for a moment, trying to discern whether or not he was being serious. She'd told Shaad what kind of monster Tiny was and that had nothing to do with her own skills. However, she felt complete seriousness in his words. Shaad, in turn, watched as Raine grabbed a towel and dried off, lustful thoughts (temporarily) replaced as he awaited her formal answer and formulated a strategy. 

"Okay," Raine finally answered as she slipped on a pair of blue board shorts. "Base levels only, though." 

"Of course." 

"I'm going to show you how far behind your technical prowess is." 

"We all have room to grow, but I plan on showing you why I'm captain." Shaad spoke plainly. 

He watched Raine slip a white blouse over her arms. She rolled up the bottom and tied it tight between her breasts. The way it lifted and squeezed the exposed cleavage made it look two sizes smaller than it probably was, but it would serve its function: keeping her chest from jiggling too much while she performed her acrobatic feats. Raine slid into a fighting stance, leaving her extendable baton on the ground in its leather thigh holster while Shaad mirrored her movements, having dropped his swords behind him. Almost as if a visual representation of their relationship thus far, Raine made the first move, backing Shaad down with a smooth, aggressive offense while Shaad was more measured in his approach. He watched her fluid moves and the way she was able to twist her lithe body waiting for his chance to strike. The young pirate was determined not to lose, but he feared his competitive spirit pushing him too far in a friendly bout. 

Shaad had to be careful on both ends. He'd long equated dealing with Raine to handling poison, and this was no different. If he moved too early or got greedy, he'd pay dearly. But, if he waited, not wanting to turn this into a brawl, it could cost him severely. Shaad had noted the firm musculature Raine hid beneath her soft, supple skin before, coiled and waiting for release. Also, Raine had clearly been trained well, able to snap out her arms and legs in quick, whip-like motions and deliver exorbitant force from her taut, lean muscles. 

The navigator's grappling ability was of note as well, though. Shaad, having never actually seen her fight, learned that the hard way as he saw an opening and went for it, striking out with a quick punch only for Raine to sidestep it, wrapping up his arm and aiming a kick for his chest. Shaad caught her leg with his free hand, but was put off balance as she jumped and locked his caught arm with her other leg, swinging her weight and flipping him hard onto his back. Shaad kept her from locking on the armbar by not letting her right leg go. At the same time, he thumped Raine in the center of her chest with a raised knuckle, shorting her heart and her breath and allowing him to slip his arm free. 

There are few ways to defend yourself from your back, but Shaad underestimated his pink-haired navigator and got an overanxious punch caught between her strong thighs before being slammed face first to the ground. Raine didn't make the same mistake as Shaad tried to repeat his previous tactic, shifting her position and putting extra torque on his elbow. Shaad grit his teeth through the pain as his arm was bent at an unnatural angle. He tried to roll through the twisting and was ready to slam Raine to the hard tile to free himself when she glided across his front and clamped her thighs around his neck as well. The added weight made him fall forward, and with her back flat against the ground, Raine was again able to increase her leverage and bring Shaad down to a knee. 

Shaad lifted Raine up enough that only her shoulders remained on the floor, and dropped his knee in the center of her back. Her body went slack for a moment and Shaad slipped free, but she latched her legs around his waist and held on as he stood up, putting him on his back with an elbow to the top of the skull. 

Straddling his chest, she held Shaad's arms above his head and smiled down at him. "My win," she sealed with a light kiss on his lips. 

But, Shaad had yet to admit defeat. He bucked his hips and rolled Raine over. Though he was breathing quite a bit harder, he flashed a toothy grin to his defeated navigator. "Think again," he countered, left fist cocked back, his way of announcing he could easily finish this. 

Raine, though, accepted the challenge: knocking his right arm aside and latching her left hand around Shaad's throat. She dug her painted nails into the skin around his throat, but Shaad reacted quickly, catching her right arm by the wrist as she aimed for his eyes and slamming it to the ground. A brief tussle later and her left arm received similar rough treatment before he pinned both her arms beneath her back. 

With Shaad leaned over her and breathing hard, Raine finally admitted defeat, though only after failing to squirm her way out of his hold. "Fine, you take round 1," she conceded with a defiant sigh. 

As Shaad released her arms, Raine struck him with an elbow to his jaw. It wasn't hard, but it dazed him enough to allow her to again flip their positions. She looked at him with playful eyes before planting a series of kisses along his jaw where she'd hit him. "So, what do you want?" 

Shaad just stared at that alluring smile. Her hair had been messed up in their little scrum and sweat had begun to bead on her brow, but Raine's eyes still danced before him, the smile she wore genuine. Shaad couldn't resist himself and locked her lips in an open mouth kiss, no tongue. 

He then flipped her over and returned that toying smirk. "I want you," he said breathily, lowly, as if the words escaped his lips despite himself. 

"You aim high, don't you," Raine chided. Regaining top position, she teased him. "You didn't win the fight, just round 1." 

The two then rolled along the deceptively smooth, painted floor, fighting for the top position. After about 30 seconds of back and forth, Shaad emerged victorious, pinning Raine's smaller frame to the cool tiles with her arms held beneath her. 

With arms held back and back arched, Raine's breasts were nearly bursting free, and Shaad could no longer contain himself. Loosing eager kisses, he glided his lips along her jaw and down her collarbone. Savoring her scent, he sucked and licked at the valley of her sweet chest, his work earning him a pleasured coo. 

"I love you," Shaad panted as Raine pushed out her breasts for his skilled tongue, his breathing rough. 

"Stop," she complained. Raine's back immediately went slack and her breathing calmed as the euphoric scene faded from her face. Shaad sensed the change and raised himself, concern etched on his features. 

"What?" 

"Why'd you bring that up again?" The confusion Shaad felt was clear on his face. Raine pushed him off and he weakly fell back to a knee. "This is just sex." 

"And, sex is an expression of love." 

Raine scoffed. "Sex is an exhibition. Sex is an exercise. Sex is an emotion, an emotion in motion. Sex is a tool. Sex is many things, but more than anything, sex is sex. That's it!" 

"But -" 

"That's it," Raine snapped, her angered scowl emphasizing her point. 

"I don't believe you and I won't accept that." The stern rebuke of Shaad's voice gave Raine pause, but his voice became gentle as he crawled over to her only to be stopped by her foot on his chest. "I don't know what you've been through because you won't tell me. I can't see your pain. But, I can see you. You can't hide behind those walls forever." 

Raine tried to yank her foot away as Shaad began to massage it, his very touch sending fire surging through her entire body. Shaad, though, maintained his grip, gently but forcefully holding the dainty extremity to his lips. 

"You didn't care about such trivial things back at the hotel." The utterance was half-hearted, meant to give Shaad pause and regain some control she'd lost over the situation. But, it failed. 

"That was a lapse in judgment on my part. With the way it ended, I wish I would've handled it differently." 

"Really," she asked incredulously, teasing her toes along his solid chest. 

"Okay, a pattern of bad judgment. . . This isn't. You demanded I be open and honest with you." Shaad continued to sensually massage her foot, planting a light kiss on the topside. "Trust is a two way street." 

He released her foot, and kissed his way up her leg. 

"Be open with me. Be honest with yourself. I'm sure you feel it, too." 

Raine placed a hand over her mouth to mask a chuckle, but didn't try to pull away. "Someone's quite full of themselves." 

Sliding past her raised knee blocking his advance, Shaad trailed passionate kisses down her inner thigh. "You said it yourself; sex is an emotion in motion." Stopping his light oral ministrations, he just grazed the thin material of her shorts. "Embrace that emotion." 

"When did you become such a tease?" 

"I had a good teacher," Shaad joked, continuing his butterfly kisses along her abdomen. He teasingly moved to the underside of her generous mounds, loosening the strained tie of her blouse with his teeth while his hands rummaged the rear of her shorts. Instead of continuing to the rising glories above him, though, he reversed course, letting his hot breath tickle the bare skin of her abdomen. However, he paused as he saw something he hadn't previously noticed: just below her left breast and midway down the same side there were what looked to be the mostly healed remnants of long passed injuries, nearly fatal if his judgement were right. 

Shaad found himself staring, trying to figure how, and when, that could've happened. Raine noticed the staring and instinctively knew the focus. She threw Shaad off of her and went to put back on the clothes she wore earlier. Shaad's thoughts were discombobulated and unfocused, only able to watch Raine as he tried to think of the right thing to say. Nothing came for a long while, and just as he finally found the voice to speak and the words to use, the tension was torn asunder for the moment by a devastating explosion outside. 

Shaad shot to his feet, he and Raine both staring at the door. Looking to each other then to the door, they were both quick to move. Shaad reached it first, turning the handle and hearing the crewmembers scrambling above while Raine, glaring at his back, stood behind him. Spotting the quartermaster's athletic form running towards them, Shaad tried to get his attention. 

"What's going on?" 

"Stay out of my way, outsider," he spat, not slowing down for the pirate even as their shoulders bumped in passing. 

Shaad glared at the retreating figure before turning back to Raine. But, Raine was in no mood, all previous warmth replaced by a burning disdain. 

"Go!" 


	27. Flash Bang

**Flash. Bang!**

"Where is Roland!? He was supposed to be on lookout!"

Shaad could hear the quartermaster's yell from below deck as well as the sound of clamoring feet stomping around above. The pirate made it above deck after a while, but his ascent was slowed by the bombardment of blasts rocking the ship. There'd been no further explosions for a short time, and Shaad realized why when he finally stepped topside.

Raiders had grappled alongside the large merchant vessel and the crew had been caught too off guard to mount an organized effort of stopping them from crossing. Shaad walked into little better than a slaughter as the seamen were overrun by ravenous marauders.

But, the tides shifted as Captain Morrigan walked out onto the quarterdeck and began issuing orders to his men from the upper railing. The momentum of the surprise battle again moved as the quartermaster drew a saber from his hip and charged forward, cutting down several enemy pirates as he moved to cut their grappling lines to prevent more from coming over. The swift quartermaster was a skilled swordsman and showed off his prowess, downing foes with slashes across their midsection or legs to open them up to a sword through the chest or bleeding out from a cut across the throat.

Among the enemy masses there seemed to be none that could match his speed and skill. However, even after opening a clearing, he was stopped by an explosion hitting the deck right at his feet. This time, though, it wasn't from a broadside or a lone cannon. It was a person. Emerging from the smoke, a man with a tricorne on his head and a captain's coat on his shoulders swaggered towards the fallen quartermaster.

"Don't falter! This whale is ours; we'll take her for all she's worth!" With their captain now on the front lines, the pirates swarmed forth with renewed vigor.

"Hold the right side," Morrigan countered with his command. His men were stronger than average merchants, and with him at the helm, they could quite possibly turn the tables. "Isolate them at the fore!"

The men of the merchant ship fought valiantly, but their morale threatened to crumple like paper in a rainstorm as the enemy captain leveled a pistol at their quartermaster.

"Mr. Dahl!"

The quartermaster, Darko Dahl, swiped the gun away with his saber, hopping to his feet as a bullet was unloaded into the wood. Darko then aimed a thrust to the pirate's stomach, but his sword was cut short, pinned to the ground by a trident from above. Landing on top of the trident, a man with scaled pauldrons, spiked gauntlets, and a multicolored mohawk stared down at him from behind a pair of blue-tinted shades.

In the midst of battle, the newcomer remained calm even as the wind picked up around them, whipping against his chest and the orange baggy pants he wore. The two ships rocked with greater intensity, but the confident smirk he wore didn't fade.

That condescending expression greatly irritated Dahl, and he intended to get rid of it. With a hard kick to the trident's handle, Darko yanked his sword from beneath the steel prongs and rolled backwards onto his feet. Knocked from the impromptu pedestal, the pirate pulled the trident from the ground while performing a front flip and aimed an overhead swing at the quartermaster. Darko blocked the strike and parried the longer weapon down as he sidestepped and moved in, aiming to take the pirate's head off with a single stroke. A gauntleted hand stopped that, though. And, a pistol shot from the enemy captain forced Darko back, his attentions torn between two powerful enemies.

"Careful, Jax, this one's a bit stronger than the other lambs," the pirate captain laughed. "We'll have to finish him before gutting this whale."

"You will never take this ship."

"Cap'n Finn, there's trouble below," a haggardish rogue announced, bursting through the door next to Shaad.

"Hah!" Darko gave a derisive snort at the latest information.

'When did they get below deck? And how?' Shaad pondered inwardly when another person arrived next to him. "About time," he remarked, raising his head to look ahead as Darko and Jax resumed their fight. "I know it doesn't take you that long to put on clothes."

But, receiving no reply from the new presence, Shaad checked over his shoulder.

"Oh, what's up V? Man, I'm off my game right now."

"Then hurry and get on it," Raine's voice commanded.

"There you are," Shaad exclaimed with mock surprise. "I assume one of you was the trouble below deck."

Raine looked to him with a questioning expression, but any statement from either side was immediately foregone as a hatch on deck was flung open and three members of the raiding party were forcibly expelled.

"Seriously, how did I miss that?" Shaad stared at the hatch incredulously, and watched as the ship's primary helmsman - a bald, muscular man with tribal tattoos covering most of the skin left exposed by the tank top and uniform pants ensemble - emerged from the passage.

With another capable fighter joining the raucous fray, Dahl tried to take advantage of the situation, aiming a thrust at Finn's midsection. Jax intercepted him, though, slicing through the open path with the blades of the trident. Darko's saber was knocked down with such force that he nearly lost his balance. But, planting his front foot, he spun on the pivot, carrying the momentum into a horizontal swipe aimed at Jax's exposed side.

However, the opening was a fake, and Jax quickly pulled back his trident, blocking the sword with the weapon's pole and countering with a strong, sweeping stroke. Darko, scrambling to dodge, fell to the deck and was immediately faced with the sharpened spear tip opposite the three prongs.

"Get out there!" Raine shoved Shaad's shoulder as quartermaster Dahl tumbled down.

"Vega."

In a flash, Vega's 'claw' was between Jax and Dahl, the hard metal deflecting the vicious attack. A hard left hook caused Jax to stumble. Vega followed, claw first. But, as Finn interfered with a punch of his own, an explosion blew Vega back. Landing on his feet after a graceful backflip, Vega waited, unconcerned with the harried fighting just off to the side.

"Vega, take out that trident user; let Dahl handle their captain."

"And, what will you do?" Raine's temper flared with each passing second of Shaad's inaction.

"Watch," he answered nonchalantly. That earned him a hard slap upside the back of his head. "What?" Shaad turned, his sharp glare meeting with one even fiercer.

"I told you to get out there!"

"And, I sent Vega."

"I told _you_ to go to keep them from damaging this ship. Now, go!"

". . . I don't wanna."

"Y-You. . . Wh- Quit bein' lazy!"

"Not laziness. I just don't like Darko Douche." Shaad heard the snap of Raine's baton behind him. "Besides, I'm studying," he clarified.

Raine released a frustrated groan, closing the baton and sliding it into the thigh holster. Shaad thought he was in the clear, but a push kick to his back put him right in the thick of it instead.

Jax possessed impressive strength in his lean frame. With a surprisingly tight fighting form and his quick, chained movements, he was a tough match up for nearly anyone. But, it was the weight of his trident and the ease with which he swung it that most caught Vega by surprise.

Jax wore a pleased grin as Vega was pushed back, his expression unreadable behind the plain mask. Jax had failed to land a clean hit on the lithe fighter, but the impact of each block sent shockwaves through his whole arms. As with the fight against Shaad, though, Vega showed no adverse reactions. Each step remained crisp and fluid as Vega imposed his will on Jax's offense, a tactic he began employing only recently to dictate a fight even while on defense. Jumping back from a heavy downward swing, Vega mimicked the attack trajectory and pinned Jax's trident to the deck. Pushing off the weapon's length, he flowed that into a flip that landed him behind Jax.

Jax reacted almost immediately, ripping the polearm free with a roar and whipping its weight around. Even with his quick reflexes, however, he was too slow. Vega was again behind him, slipping the claw on as it spun in the air and bringing the three blade points down.

Darko was eager to get his hands on the enemy captain unobstructed. "Raging Sea Slicer!" Darko rushed forward, his saber trailing behind. Ripping through the deck like a shark in water, he swung the blade up, just missing Finn's unfazed mug. The momentum of the devastating stroke carried Dahl off his feet, but with great ease, he turned it around, bringing the blade shooting down on Finn with both hands.

Finn's expression, though, told how little he thought of Darko and the fierce attack aimed at him. While his arms had been crossed, he unfurled them to counter Dahl's most recent combination and did so to injurious end.

Before his intended finishing blow could connect, quartermaster Dahl felt Finn's knuckles dig into the flesh beneath his ribs, breath racing to leave his lungs. The merchant officer was essentially suspended on Finn's clinched fist as the strike left Darko with mouth agape. But, the damage wasn't done.

As Finn could practically tickle the quartermaster's spine through his stomach, his body erupted in a large explosion. Finn pulled back the fist with a sneer and booted Dahl across the jaw. He was defenseless as the enemy captain approached his prone form. Darko's will, though, was greater than his strength and he gritted his teeth, rolling over to his front and lifting himself to his hands and knees. However, despite his efforts, he could only glare defiantly as Finn's fist came for his head.

"I feel like I've seen this scene before," Shaad remarked as he stumbled between the quartermaster and opposing pirate captain, catching Finn's fist firmly in his palm, unfazed by the explosion that followed shortly after. "You don't mind if I cut in, do you? I think your crew's dance partner might be a bit too active for 'em if you still wanna go."

His pride wounded from having been saved twice (by outsiders), Dahl looked over to where the two crews still raged in battle. Even with the injection of the ship's other officer, the helmsman and navigator Naki, they weren't faring too well as more and more pirates spilled onto the large vessel. They were being overrun; it was a testament to Morrigan's leadership that the ship hadn't fallen yet. Swallowing his pride, Dahl pushed to his feet and moved to fight with his crew, saber held tightly in hand. He would not be a detriment in the fight for this ship. That was his resolution, and he would die to uphold it.

"Now, where were w- boosh."

Raine nearly facepalmed as an explosive punch blasted across Shaad's jaw. Caught unexpectedly, Shaad took the full brunt of the attack. He turned back to Finn, a humorless expression on his face.

"Ouch."

The word was flat, devoid of feeling or emotion. But, the breathless exclaim that Finn released next was far from either. The speed and power behind the knee Shaad blasted into his midsection shot through the opposing captain like a high caliber bullet. Raine felt the resounding pressure of the strike from where she stood. Shaad's quick temper had already cost her one ship.

"Stop!"

Shaad reined in the umbrage he felt and lowered his balled fist. Shooting a look to Raine, he missed the explosive punch that buried itself in his ribs. He stumbled back and felt a second connect with his jaw. Finn was angry. The raiding captain threw combinations of hooks and haymakers at the reeling young man.

"You think you can look down on me!? . . I'm 'Boom Fist' Finn! . . I ate the Bomb Bomb Fruit. . . I have a bounty of 18 million beli," he boasted, continuing to rain down punches on Shaad.

Shaad had been backed against the ship's secondary mast. Each powerful punch that tenderized Shaad's toned flesh and muscles also shook the towering pillar he was pressed against. The reverberating blasts tore into the deck one after the other as the sound continued to ring out into the sunny sky, blending with the symphonic sounds of nature in an inharmonious cacophony. It was anyone's guess how long Shaad or the mast could hold out.

But, Raine noticed the brief grin Shaad flashed her way before eating another of the bone jarring fists. An annoyed growl rumbled in her throat at his audacity.

"Just finish him already," she groaned. "You hear me? Just -"

"Di~e!"

Finn was ready to end their little skirmish as well. With an emphatic yell, he rocketed his fist forward -jettisoned on by a series of explosions from his elbow - aimed directly at Shaad's head. Finn's entire arm erupted in the blast as his punch landed.

Shaad, though, caught the raging fist, muffling the impact of the explosion with his own power. His cocky smirk served to further enrage Finn, enough to bait the enemy captain into throwing a second, equally devastating strike. And, like the first, Shaad stopped it as well. Yanking his foe closer, Shaad delivered a brain rattling headbutt that put Finn on wobbly legs.

"I don't know why people always call me hard-headed," Shaad remarked, shaking loose a few cobwebs on his end. "That hurt. But, not as much as this."

Finn could feel his very bones succumbing to the overwhelming pressure being applied by Shaad's grip. Falling to his knees, the man worth 18 million silently pleaded for mercy.

"Come on, you're going the wrong way," Shaad chided as he pressured the man closer to the deck before flicking his wrists and launching Finn into the air, following closely along with a burst jump. "We're getting pretty high, now. But, you don't look like you're having fun." Shaad's tone was scary casual as the pair continued to rise, though both of their ascents slowed as gravity again took hold of them. "I bet that Devil Fruit you're so proud of can send people flying even higher."

Finn, on the verge of losing hope, saw no other option but resistance. His boastful pride compelled him to fight. He lashed out with a quick right, but Shaad easily knocked it aside. Raine had muttered a nearly inaudible thank you as Shaad threw Finn into the air away from both ships. But, that thanks quickly turned to curses as a hard left sent the defeated foe hurtling back down. Slamming through the entangled railings of both ships, Finn's body crashed into the deck of his ship.

Thanks to the angle, the overall damage from the rough landing was mostly superficial, but any hopes of the marauders' vessel being sea worthy after this battle went up in smoke as Shaad came down like an asteroid after the victim of this merciless assault.

"Your Fruit is actually quite strong; you don't deserve it."

Shaad's admonishment went unheard as the wind whipped heavily against the young man's face, the target of it unconscious down below. Shaad's fist struck Finn's core. But, the impact carried through his entire body and his ship. Level by level, the wood beneath them creaked and splintered, splitting in half until the ship was completely ruptured in two and he lay battered and broken, completely helpless against the elements, on a fractured remnant of the ship's keel.

"Disengage the ships and push them all overboard." Morrigan's orders resounded among his men as they finished off the last of the raiders. They'd suffered significant losses, but they wouldn't complain. They knew it could've been worse (though they also knew it shouldn't have been that bad).

Shaad remained on the sinking pirate vessel for a short while even after the merchants had loosed it from The Mistress' Dream, standing over the split, a sneer still crossing his face as he looked at the battered pirate captain. "18 million. Don't make me laugh; mine's 20, and I haven't even done anything. . . Yet."


	28. Rough Outing

**Rough Outing**

The landscape was beautiful, picturesque in its calm serenity. Going around the circular lawn was a cobbled path lined with trimmed and manicured shrubs and a rainbow collage of exotic flowers. Outside of the immediate lawn area, flower beds filled to the brim with the rare black lotus flowers decorated the area. The sprawling hills of the courtyard, enclosed by an intricately designed wrought iron fence, were also home to a number of common and uncommon species of trees. The one that dominated the sight line, though, was a gorgeous corkscrew hazel, its bare twigs hanging like well-maintained curls, so many crows gracing the sturdy branches that it almost looked to have lively black leaves.

Lying beyond the strangely dark aurora of controlled chaos that was the immaculate garden and just past the gate of polished steel rested a quaint, peaceful little town. The town was a maze of narrow winding streets, its design as complex as a heart locked in the grasp of a looming kraken. The inner streets were the veins, paved with dark red stones, while the glistening black roads surrounding them were the ominous tentacles. The people throughout representing the blood of the city itself. Even in the distance, the hearty cheers of drunkards and the almost melodic sounds of smiths' hammer strikes beating swords and breastplates into shape was the consistent, pounding cacophony that let you know the town was very much alive.

"What is it?" Baron Samedi spoke authoritatively without turning around, gazing out the window at the scenery surrounding his expansive castle.

"Baraqyal has returned with the item, sir?"

"Good. How did everything else go?"

"Tocar is dead, sir," Grendel answered evenly.

"Aah, that's a shame. Familial bonds are hard to break. What about Saiko?"

"He escaped. Tocar held off Baraqyal long enough for him to get away."

"Hmm. That boy really is sloppy when his mind's not into it."

"Should I send someone after Saiko, sir?"

"No, rumor of the incident will get around. The world will know he's no longer in my service. As of now, Saiko is a free agent. . . and a free target."

* * *

"Those ungrateful. . . How dare they throw us off the ship? We saved their sorry asses." Raine groused to the open air. Vega seemed to be meditating while Shaad listened calmly.

"They didn't throw us off. Cap Morgan gave us this ship so we could make it to the island faster. We'll have everything wrapped up by the time they get there."

"This isn't a ship," Raine scoffed, multiple complaints vying to be the first out. "This is all your fault." Shaad didn't see how that was true, but he simply let her continue. Since the marauders' attack, she hadn't spoken to him except to gripe, and it was easier to ignore her than try and figure out the problem. "If you hadn't been playing your stupid games -"

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about," Shaad remarked, his tone level even as a sly, subtle smirk graced his lips. The smirk only spread, ever so slightly, as Raine's frustration became evident in her eyes and the slight twitch of her mouth as she readied a response. "You know, if not for the violence, you'd almost be adorable when you pout like that." The off-the-wall statement further interrupted Raine's tirade and simultaneously stoked the navigator's ire to the point she had no immediate reply.

"It's your fault we're stuck on this stupid little boat," she finally huffed, crossing her arms over her chest before turning away, the low growl of her stomach intruding on what was supposed to be a tense silence. "And, his name's Morrigan; Captain Morgan is smoother. . . and without this bad aftertaste."

Shaad didn't get that last remark, but he let it go with a shrug. It had been three days since Finn and his crew attacked the merchant ship. After Shaad defeated Finn and Vega struck down the first mate, Morrigan's crew forced a retreat of the raiding party, pushing many over the sides. The unforgiving depths greedily claimed their prize including the pirate ship and its captain.

It didn't take long afterwards for the crew of the merchant ship to have a long boat prepared for Shaad and his friends, Morrigan hastily seeing them off with a gift of a map, a compass, and a few small treats. He profusely claimed the issue to be time related in regards to the shipment Shaad was to recover, but his voice could barely maintain its usual smoothness and regality through the many webs he wove with his words. Neither Raine nor Shaad believed the complex lies. And, hidden behind an expressionless mask, Vega shared their suspicions. They'd seen the look in Shaad's eyes: the indescribable fury rampaging beneath the surface. They also saw how the merchant crew reacted: hesitantly, fearful of that chilling gaze being turned on them, of Shaad turning on them. But, the most telling sign? Darko Dahl, the ship's quartermaster, who would usually oversee such trivial matters, was nowhere in sight, no doubt the wounds to his pride stinging as much if not more than those from the battle.

Shaad inwardly smirked at that. Even as they were chauffeured onto the support vessel - a longboat big enough to fit all three with reasonable accommodation though it possessed only a straw covered single lodging and zero amenities - the young man found pleasure in being able to poke the tamed tiger one last time. Now, they were alone on the open sea. The boat was intended as a rowboat allowing a few sailors to reach land without docking the ship, but was equipped with a lone full mast at its center for emergencies. While not an emergency per se, with the winds as they were, Shaad and company were making good time. But, they may have needed to make better if Raine and Shaad were to be kept from one another's throat.

"If you're hungry, Vega and I have caught plenty of fish," Shaad offered with a smile.

True enough, there was a pile of fresh fish near the front of the boat, a wire mesh cage over them to prevent any from flopping overboard. Raine looked to the fish out of water with a frown before posing a single question.

"Whose gon' cook 'em?"

"I guess you," Shaad posited without missing a beat. "Not many options around." Raine didn't know how to cook, and Shaad knew that. Neither did him or Vega (to the best of anyone's knowledge). But, conversely to Raine, Shaad and Vega were proficient in hunting, foraging, and otherwise gathering food and were used to simply making do.

《《《 • • • 》》》

After almost a week, it was still more of the same. The decently sized boat cycled between periods of disgruntled silence and outright bickering as suddenly as a geyser might erupt. They'd come to a compromise on the issue of food, Shaad super heating his silver blade through sparks in order to cook and filet the fish simultaneously. But, like the hands of time they constantly found something new for their disagreements to touch upon. For Shaad, it was all in good fun. Their lone compromise gave him a modicum of control in the relationship, as it took a great deal of energy to perform the feat, and he used it to exact a measure of payback for her previously merciless teasing. For Raine, it was simply a matter of frustration. She was used to a certain level of comforts and getting what she wanted (from all but her father). And, neither standard was currently being met.

Though physically in the middle, Vega stayed out of their heated exchanges, always remaining silent and distant. If not for Shaad's constant one sided conversations and trying to get the masked man involved in issues with Raine, one reasonably could've forgotten about his presence.

"Okay everyone, relax and get ready," Shaad ordered. "We'll need our strength. According to rumors, the Illusory Forest is quite fun." The trio was less than three days from their goal. Shaad and Vega had taken turns rowing whenever the favorable winds faded, and they were now in position to arrive almost a half week ahead of even the most ambitious projections. That meant more time to prepare and, for Shaad, more time to sleep. But, above all, in the time remaining before landfall, Shaad made a concerted effort to ease tensions between himself and Raine, going so far as to offer massages and present her with a fancifully laid out seafood platter. He'd had fun the last few days irking his uninhibited navigator but held no misconceptions that retaliation was far off once they reached land, in its myriad of pleasurable, and unpleasurable, forms.

《《《 • • • 》》》

Mmnnph! There was a groan from the front of the boat.

"I'm with ya, V," Shaad croaked, lifting himself up. Both he and Vega were drenched in seawater, contributing to the sluggishness with which he moved. He was checking his belongings when the door behind him flew open.

" _Ugh_. Useless; the both of you!"

"Well, excuse us, princess," Shaad instinctively responded.

He realized the mistake upon spotting the threatening glare being leveled at him. But, he was too weakened and too spent to feel like retracting the barb. So, instead, he doubled down.

"I'm sorry, queen," Shaad clarified rhetorically.

Instead of a more intense glare or a whack upside the head, though, the remark elicited a smirk from Raine's luscious lips. Whether that was because she admired the boldness he showed or took it as a bit of a compliment wasn't clear, but it didn't matter to Shaad. He could tell that the smile wasn't half as false as those of hers that said, 'I'm going to kill you. . . and enjoy it.'

Raine then turned back into the compact cabin she'd emerged from, grabbed her bag, and hopped off the boat onto the white sand beaches, making a beeline for the nearest town. She nabbed the fedora from Shaad's head to shield her from the beaming sun, shaking it dry before placing it on her head.

"That straw covered shack is more durable than it looks," Shaad muttered, peeling his eyes away from Raine's swaying backside to look at the boat's cabin. "Come on, Vega, we need to pull this boat onto shore."

And, by 'we', Shaad apparently meant just Vega as he collapsed onto his back on the toasty sand, closing his eyes and resting while the sun baked his exposed chest and splayed arms. It was understandable, if not entirely rude. They'd just barely made it out of a vicious storm, and the two of them were drained and on edge, though the muffled groan upon impact was probably the most reaction one could expect from Vega.

* * *

Raine had spotted the brewing storm just over the horizon. She would've ignored it for the most part, simply making a few minor course adjustments, but the dark, ominous clouds approached with a rare ferocity. There could be no ambling about. Aside from the island itself, the Illusory Forest was right in the middle of the roughest patch of waters in all of West Blue, at its worst being on par with the Grand Line according to some. In accordance with Raine's instructions, Vega took hold of the single sail, manually steering them away from the fast approaching, all enveloping darkness while Shaad grabbed the row paddles to give them an added boost of speed.

But, Raine kept her eyes locked on the darkening sky - lightning flashing erratically while thunder rumbled loudly, both steadily drawing nearer - for too long. Only realizing the trouble they were in when the boat suddenly jerked forward, dropping the navigator on her backside as it shot off like a rocket.

"You idiots," Raine screamed, pinching the bridge of her nose to try (in vain) and calm herself. "This is the fucking Styx Current!" That didn't mean anything to Shaad nor Vega, neither of whom was originally from the West Blue, and it showed on their faces (or at least Shaad's). "Its power is incomparable. Everything from a mermaid to an island whale would be helpless once inside!"

Raine released a frustrated groan as things went from bad to worse. The powerful current was far from straight. Windy and whip-like, it tossed the longboat to and fro like a child's toy, threatening to capsize the small vessel at every turn. Shaad and Vega wrestled against the water's might with all they had, but it was useless; the pull of the current would not be denied. Raine understood the futility of their efforts without trying.

"If we die, I'm going to kill you," she warned the pair, turning on her heel and slamming the cabin door shut behind her.

At breakneck speeds, their flimsy looking boat was thrust into the violent center of the storm. Bombarded by lightning all around them and thick raindrops hitting with the force of hail, things looked to be unable to get any worse. That is until they were carried into a natural minefield of sorts, jagged rocks jutting from the surface while even more lurked just beneath the surface like alligators. Shaad and Vega, seeing the sheer vanity of their efforts, still refused to give up, both too stubborn and prideful to be done in by Mother Nature no matter how many victims had previously fallen to her wrath. But, with the sea's wrath becoming even more violent combined with the unrelenting ferocity overhead, the combined efforts of even these unnaturally gifted youths still left them as little more than passive bystanders to the chaos around them. If not for the seemingly unnatural undulations of the water directly beneath them, prevailing wisdom would have had them done in long ago.

Yet somehow, even with everything against them, they still made it to the home of the Illusory Forest in one piece, the Styx Current, almost symbolically, spitting them out onto the serene eastern coast of the legendary island. All that was required of the crew at that point was for Shaad to cut two swaths through the water in order to obliterate the rocks in their path as they skipped along to a rough stop, an act that took most of his remaining energy after wasting much of it during the storm.

* * *

Now, resting in the heat of the sun, Shaad had a peaceful curve to his lips, the heat and humidity at perfect levels for the tropical scene. However, he was rudely ripped from his light nap by the full weight of the longboat landing directly on top of him. Feeling the back portion of the boat pinch down on his crossed leg, his other knee automatically shot up to keep it from continuing on to his privates. Instantly awakened, he wasted no time and held nothing back in throwing out a wicked elbow to knock the boat aside.

His strength easily punched a hole in the longboat's front end, but, more surprisingly, the cabin, which Shaad had just complimented on its surprising durability, broke apart almost immediately. A closer look, though, revealed that it was closer to the edge than Shaad originally thought anyway. Not just drenched on the outside or even something as basic as being soaked all the way through, rain had poured through the woven roof as if it weren't even there and saturated the wooden walls to the point structural integrity was nearly nonexistent. Despite that, of the floorboards that had been inside the cabin, one small spot (about the size of Raine in circumference) remained inexplicably dry.

That broken wood now holding no more use than driftwood, Shaad tossed it out of the way and beached the battered boat behind a few trees. Afterwards, Shaad and Vega ventured into town in search of Raine, Shaad taking the time to lodge a friendly complaint with his silent compatriot for dropping a boat on him.

In town, they found a bar that Shaad figured would be a good first place to check out or at least gather information at. As he reached for the door's handle, though, it swung out at him, a young man barely missing him as the man's body flew from inside. Shaad merely smirked, now confident that Raine was inside.

But, much to his surprise, Raine hadn't in fact been the cause. Instead, in the middle of the rather tame, half full bar, an older gentleman with a dirty apron tied over a white shirt and khaki pants stood with his fists clenched and raised. "I told you mongrels once to keep your hands off my daughters," the old man roared. "Anyone else need a reminder?"

The bar was quiet a moment before everyone turned back to their beer and conversation, ignoring the old man as well as the three young men across from him, a noticeable gap where the fourth had been.

"You old coot," one of the young men still staring down the old man yelled while drawing his fist back. "You'll pay for that!"

Shaad stopped the man's punch as he swung his arm forward. The man glared at Shaad over his shoulder, but his arm was immobile in Shaad's iron grip. Shaad ignored the look, tossing the young man into the wall where he subsequently fell onto the table of a packed corner booth, inciting a brawl that would soon encompass the entire bar.

Still, Shaad ignored the threatening looks of those immediately around him as he calmly stepped forward. "I'd like to speak with the bartender."

"You're lookin' at him." The old man's voice was gruff bordering on indignant, but Shaad loosed a wide smile.

"Great," he beamed. "I'd like a rum and coke. . . minus the rum. . . Vega, take care of these three, will ya. And, don't be too hard on 'em; they're just kids."


	29. Bruised

**Bruised Egos**

Shaad followed the bartender as he turned his back on the three fuming youngsters and headed back to tend the bar, both unbothered by Vega needing to quickly step in to stop an attack to Shaad's back.

"I could've handled them," the bartender remarked, his tone as coarse as his scruffy, graying beard.

"I'm sure," Shaad replied half-heartedly.

The man was in pretty good shape for someone his age, and judging by the stance he had when they walked in, he was no slouch. Whether he could've taken out all three was certainly questionable. But, Shaad could say with near certainty, he wouldn't be an easy out.

"You used to be a sailor, huh," Shaad inquired as his drink was being poured.

"That was a long time ago. Now, I just run this bar. It's not much, but it's enough for me and my five daughters."

Shaad had almost forgotten this whole thing started over the man's daughters. Looking at the bartender's haggard features, the sight that popped in Shaad's head was unflattering to say the least. Even if you took away the pickled nose and overinflated lips (which admittedly were a bit of overkill), they were still a world away from palatable for his tastes. Shaad's face betrayed his internal mockup but his dour expression was kept from view as he took a sip from the offered mug. The fighting behind him having reached a fever pitch, Shaad, hearing the sound of two skulls smashing into one another, was thankful Vega was actually taking it easy on the crowd. If the masked man had wanted, he easily could've finished them all in a fraction of the time, leaving dead and injured bodies littering the worn floorboards of the quaint bar.

The chaotic scene had drawn attention from one unlikely source, though. Peeking out of a doorway behind the bar, her curiosity battled her attempt at being discreet and won out as Shaad caught a good glimpse of her through the open door. Shaad figured her to be one of the bartender's daughters and boy were his assumptions wrong. She had a pretty face with long blue hair curled at the ends. The uniform she wore did little to conceal the massive bust she possessed, and - a commotion behind her caused her to stumble forward and into the open - the skirt was obviously intended to be longer than it appeared hugging the shapely swell of her rear end. Behind her, another girl stood with hands clasped. She looked almost exactly like the first only with orange hair. The other three daughters were also gathered as the door was almost knocked off its hinges, but Shaad failed to get a good look before something slammed into his back.

"Hey, watch where you're throwing those fools," Shaad yelled at Vega. Vega, though, ducking under a series of blows, caught the arm of one of his attackers and pulled the bigger man towards himself, delivering a side kick to the chest of a second man. While that man crashed into the bar to the left of Shaad's stool, Vega transitioned the kick into a knee from the same leg that knocked all wind from the body of the man whose arm he still had. Pulling his opponent into the devastating knee for added effect, the large man sailed through the air landing upside down to Shaad's right, unconscious just as the first was.

"Very funny," Shaad scoffed, taking another drink from the mug of cola. "But, I suggest you watch your back."

From around the glass, Shaad pointed a finger over Vega's shoulder, but Vega didn't need the assistance as without even looking, a powerful backhand put that man down as well before he could swing the wooden chair in his hands at Vega's back. And, with that, Vega was the last man standing, all others either unconscious or groaning in pain while writhing on the wooden floor.

Shaad frowned as he turned around. He couldn't tell if Vega was intentionally being haughty or if that cocky swagger was simply built into his DNA. Either way, it was superfluous and annoying all the same. "Anyway," Shaad began, looking the bartender in his sharp gray eyes. "I came in here looking for a friend of mine. You seen a pink haired girl with jean shorts and a white tank top? I think she was wearing a sky blue bra. Oh, and she has on my fedora, too." Shaad added that last sentence as if it were simultaneously the most distinctive and infuriating detail of all.

"Um, those four guys were talking about someone matching that description."

Shaad heard the soft spoken, hesitant voice but couldn't see the speaker. Luckily, the sisters also seemed to be a little surprised as they slid aside to eye their youngest sibling. The girl wore the same conservative, frilled green blouse and black skirt as her sisters. But, she lacked the shapely curves that made it appear almost erotic on the older, more developed girls. She still had the same cute face, though, and the purity in her eyes gave her an attractiveness all her own. The girl slipped away behind her father to escape Shaad's critical eye, but Shaad was too distracted to care. "What else did they say?" His voice was definitely sterner than he'd intended, just managing to stay on the right side of threatening as the words left his mouth.

The girl was Shaad's age, but she seemed so much younger looking up to her father for approval before answering.

Once he nodded his head, she spoke. ". . . Not much. They just kept calling her a - a witch, and complained a lot before demanding drinks and food. . . The lead guy did look like he had a black eye, though."

The young woman was clearly not comfortable with eye contact and Shaad's forceful stare did nothing to alleviate her anxiety. Shaad guessed that was good as it kept her from seeing him smirk at her innocent aversion to cussing. Her father sensed she was through and anticipated Shaad's next question. "I don't know where they were coming from, but they're a bunch of pompous brats from up the hill. Its high end shops and restaurants are unmistakable; you can't miss it."

Shaad thanked the bartender, but his attention was diverted by some chatter. Behind him, the four buxom beauties excitedly clamored around Vega. In addition to the two near twins, a girl with glistening green hair framing her face, seemed to be getting a bit handsy, more in admiration of his physique than sexual in nature, but it still had the effect of dampening Shaad's mood. It was the oldest sister, though, an athletically built redhead that made the most fuss. Her fiery demeanor claimed attention as she recreated her favorite moments of the brawl before the unreadable eyes of Vega's expressionless mask.

"Petra, calm yourself," the bartender roared, immediately halting his active daughter's actions, though her face showed obvious discontent. Despite that, she and her sisters continued animatedly flocking around Vega.

Finishing his drink with a large gulp, Shaad brusquely rose from his seat. Walking straight past the girls, Shaad pushed Vega away. "Come on, Vega, we're leaving." The young captain practically shoved his top pure fighter out the door before turning back, remembering, "Wait, how much do I owe you for the drinks and. . . damages?"

"Don't worry about it; it's on the house. You were taking care of a problem of mine."

That was a great answer for a number of reasons. Not the least of which being Shaad nor Vega had any money. And, Shaad actually liked the old fella; he would've felt bad about just disappearing on the man after everything he'd gotten from the visit. He would've done it. But, he would've felt bad about it.

"Thanks, a lot. . ."

"Robert. Robert Acklund. Don't mention it. And, for protecting my daughters' honor, if you need anything just ask."

Shaad didn't really get what the old man was talking about so he just smiled and went on, turning Vega around and proceeding down the street.

With nothing to go on but 'you can't miss it', Shaad and Vega missed it. A lot. But, eventually they finally came across what they were looking for, and Robert was right. This subsection of the town was markedly different from the rest, remarkable in its unparalleled splendor and opulence. Contrary to the rumors, this island was peaceful, upscale, and beautiful, far from the glum picture the many tales painted. But, this area in particular was on a wholly different echelon. With shops, restaurants, and boutiques aplenty of such glorious quality to draw in people the world over -including nobles and even a World Noble at one point in its history-, it was no wonder this place once held the nickname, The Gem of West Blue. According to the stories from Big G, the 'Illusory Forest hides the Gem of West Blue, laughing at all foolish enough to dare try and claim it'. None knew its nature, appearance, or location within the massive forest that dominated this island's landscape, but still many came to test their luck and try their hand, pit their strength against that of nature, rumor, and the unknown. Over the years, thousands had tried, all had failed.

Shaad, though, seeing the wondrous spires glistening in the afternoon sun around him, was sure that this awe-inspiring district was the real 'gem', not some single jewel or treasure chest after all. It gave new meaning to the island's name, Sennouso Shima ('Isle of a Thousand Lies'), but didn't tell why Big G would have included it on his list of places in West Blue to find strong fighters. None on the island so far were worth the time of day in a scrum save for the goliaths standing guard outside the district's dividing wall. In order to avoid starting a riot that would risk both their lives, Shaad and Vega were forced to lower themselves to sneaking in. Shaad sensed formidable strength from both of the titans but also knew futility when it struck him, and trying to convince either of them to betray their task and join him would've been the pinnacle of futility and foolishness, especially trying to do so with minimal fanfare; that would be impossible.

Now inside, though, their task was to locate Raine. And, in this area where everything was so marvelous, it wouldn't be as simple as finding the nearest bar.

"Anything," Shaad asked, Vega alighting behind him with nary a sound. The answer came in the form of silence, but Shaad understood perfectly. "Alright, keep looking."

Shaad was pushed to ' _borrowing_ ' an outfit from one of the local boutiques, with no intention of returning the items, in order to walk the streets freely. The chosen attire wasn't his first choice, but it did the job. It was a sad commentary that bold blue trousers paired with a frilled, white blouse and a feather hat lent itself to blending in but it did. He also threw on a light scarf to hide his face from any who might look more closely. Vega didn't so much require a change of clothing, a masked man would draw stares either way whenever Vega stopped long enough to be seen.

After a few minutes of walking alone, Vega returned to Shaad's side. This time it brought a smile to the young captain's face. "Good. Where is she?"

Shaad's head turned in unison with Vega's and they watched as a beautiful couple trotted happily from the restaurant, arm in arm and more than a little buzzed. It was getting late; they'd need to find a place to stay the night. But, first. The two walked into the restaurant. All eyes immediately converged on the pair, Vega's mask and Shaad's swords bringing with them an uneasy feeling. Raine spotted them immediately, and dabbing the corners of her mouth with her napkin as she finished the last bite of dessert, she rose to greet them.

"Finally; pay the man will you, darling." And, with that said and a tap on the shoulder, she was already out the door.

The staff heard her as well and looked to Shaad for their payment. Shaad checked his pockets, expecting, hoping, Raine to have again left money without his knowledge. But, pulling his hands out, they were empty except for the price tag of his new wardrobe, leaving him standing there with a dumb, apologetic, grin on his face.

"Please. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to speak to you in the back," Shaad whispered to the restaurant manager, a thin man dressed in a fine black suit.

The manager complied, escorting Shaad off the dining floor while Shaad motioned for Vega to go ahead. In the back, Shaad was met by three muscle bound men all dressed in black suits that stretched across their bulging physiques. Their stern expressions brought an almost nervous smile to Shaad's lips, but he quickly straightened up.

"Now, now. We can all walk away from this. Just forget you ever saw me or the pink haired girl." The manager raised an eyebrow as if expecting something more, but Shaad's face remained straight. "No, that's it. Simple amnesia; just forget."

The room was quiet for a second before the manager announced, "Guards." Shaad took a step back and found himself in the chest of a third man.

"This room's not soundproof is it?" The strange question earned Shaad a questioning look from the manager, leaving Shaad to merely sigh and shake his head. "That's sad. . . Vega."

Quick movements, precision strikes. Glinting steel and muffled screams. The office was chaos for only a few seconds. The door creaked open, but only Shaad emerged.

Shaad was still straightening his clothes when he looked up and into the eyes of a boy seventeen years in age. The boy was on staff as evidenced by the black formal attire and leather bound business folder in hand. Shaad adopted a sincere-ish smile and extended his hand for a handshake, the boy's grip surprisingly firm.

"I'm sorry, but he's quite busy right now," Shaad eloquently stated. "Give him a few minutes, if you don't mind. Oh, and do knock; no need to be rude."

Left in the hallway alone, the boy watched as Shaad again entered the main dining area.

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen," Shaad announced, his voice drawing the attention of every patron. "I am pleased to announce that all of your bills are on me. Please, eat and drink as much as you like."

Shaad received a few cheers from the guests and puzzled gazes from the wait staff, but didn't take the time to bask as he made a lap around the room and quickly dipped out of the elegant establishment. The restaurant had ambient mood lighting and more than a few guests had had alcohol. Combined with the smoke from pipes and cigarettes, if any police came investigating, they'd receive dozens of differing descriptions and no clear leads. Blend in or stand out, those were his two options. He chose the latter because the former, in his mind, would have left Vega at the forefront of people's minds when thinking back on this night, and, if the manager often personally handled bills, things would get highly suspicious in a short amount of time. Now, the only loose end was that boy. Vega would make the decision on him.

Loudly sucking the flavor off his fingers, Shaad proudly strutted into the streets. " _Mmm_ , that was delicious. Wish we could come back."

"Since when does it take that long to pay a bill," Raine demanded, flustered as Shaad switched his fedora on her head with the feathered hat on his.

"Since when do I have money?"

Raine just eyed him, but he caught the implication. "I'm not a thief."

"Uh-huh." Raine's expression said it all.

"We don't have time for this," Shaad finally said after a groan and a sigh.

"What," Raine teased with a smirk, "afraid people'll start staring at the man with a woman's scarf.

"Huh? What," Shaad exclaimed, looking down at the now disheveled accessory. The garment was quickly stripped off and thrown to Raine. "That at least explains why people were giving me such strange looks."

"Yea, I'm sure it had nothing to do with the two swords strapped to your back."

"Oh, I always forget about those."

Thankfully, Shaad didn't have to explain his absent mindedness as Vega appeared next to them.

"OK, now that we're all here, we need to find a place to sleep for the night before Vega and I head into the forest tomorrow to search out and secure the shipment."

Shaad looked to Raine expecting suggestions since, of course, it would be her decision as the most discerning one and the only one of them with any money. But, her expression was hard, meeting his eyes evenly.

"Don't treat me like some damsel," she warned, her tone making clear that she was not some weakling to be protected or rescued. "I can take care of myself."

"Believe me, I trust that," Shaad assured his fiercely independent navigator. "This ain't about protecting nobody; this is about all of us, the crew as a whole. We're going in blind, so I can't send Vega in there alone. Plus, this is on me. I wish I didn't have to get you all involved at all, but sending everyone from the onset would be as stupid as sending a single one of us. Somebody has to stay back, and, if worse comes to worst, you're the only one with the skills to either back us up or escape this island, depending on the situation."

Raine's expression softened but remained stern. Shaad was being honest and thorough in his evaluation, but there was a nagging part of her that still felt left out of the action she'd normally so freely push them towards strictly because she was the only woman.

"You're lucky I don't actually want to go into a hot, humid forest."

Shaad smirked at her attitude. She was upset because it was a ruling made for her instead of a choice. 'Fiercely independent indeed. You learn something new every day.'

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading. _A Long Way From Home_ is being suspended indefinitely while I focus on school. In the meantime, check out _Crimson Pirates_ if you haven't already. And, I'm going to be posting a preview for an off-the-wall idea I had about a month back (Title: _I'm Not Crazy!_ ) sometime in the near future. Keep an eye out and tell me what you think.


	30. Operation: Rescue

**Rescue**

Shaad staggered to his feet, groaning at the exertion required for that simple action. His head was foggy and thoughts unclear as he tried to take in his surroundings.

"Finally." Raine's voice, spoken with an abnormally husky drawl, drew his full attention, his gaze enraptured by her swaying hips and the tantalizing curve of her lips.

As if the dumbfounded expression on his face didn't tell enough of his confusion, he soon opened his mouth to erase all doubt.

"What are you. . . Where are we," Shaad stuttered out, turning his head every which way to avoid looking directly at the enticing sight that was Raine.

The room was pristine; Shaad didn't recognize it, though. They were obviously in a very nice hotel, but that was hardly the only surprising sight as Raine sauntered deep into his chest and now looked up at him with a mischievous smile on those full lips.

"We're in a hotel bedroom, obviously," Raine offered in a sultry tone before pushing Shaad backwards and onto his back as he tripped up on the foot of the bed.

"No, I'm supposed to be in the Illusory Forest with Vega."

"Tomorrow; no need to rush." Raine's voice was soft but firm as she stood over Shaad, tracing a manicured nail over his exposed chest.

'This doesn't make any sense.' Shaad's mind raced. He remembered splitting from Vega at the edge of the forest. What he didn't remember was anything that preceded this moment, and certainly not how he ended up with his shirt open.

Those thoughts were thrown into disarray as Raine allowed the thin, pink silken robe draped around her to flutter open and let it drop softly to the ground.

Shaad felt the lump forming in his throat and knew the captivating sight of Raine's lithe, nude figure slinking toward him couldn't be real, but the light touch of her lips tracing their way up his chest to lightly nibble on his earlobe and the flowery scent of her natural fragrance were unmistakably more than mere constructs of his imagination. Subconsciously knowing better, Shaad allowed his eyes to drift closed so as to better take in the sound of Raine's heated breathing in his ear and that intoxicating scent wafting above him.

'Wait. . . flowers?'

Shaad's eyes shot open and he would've bolted up if not for something restraining him. Shaking loose the mental fog that still bothered him, the soft mattress and satin sheets were replaced by the feel of grass on his back and he looked down to see Raine's lascivious figure replaced on top of him by vines wrapping tightly around his legs and the lower part of his torso along with another one creeping along his chin to wrap around his neck.

The ones holding his arms to his side proved more annoying than anything as he easily snapped them with only slight exertion, tearing away the natural noose just as it began to tighten. Busting his legs loose, Shaad leaned over his raised knee, the expression on his face one of irritated indifference.

"This is all your fault," he muttered, sparing a glance to his crotch before treating his crossed arms like a pillow. The inactivity only lasted a moment before Shaad lifted his head with a heavy sigh.

"You can come out now," he yelled to open air. But, as seconds passed, the only sound was the light breeze rustling through the trees. "Aah. You wanna play hide and seek, huh? Fine, but let me warn you. . . I cheat," Shaad confidently declared, brandishing both swords in one smooth motion.

* * *

"Spirit?" Raine's eyebrows arched up as she surveyed a cute, dark red backless halter, reading the word scrawled across the chest in wispy, bedazzled lettering. "I've never heard of this brand," she called to the attendant, a frumpy, but well accessorized, middle-aged woman with a figure like two peaches stacked on top of each other and squeezed into a too tight ensemble of blouse, slacks, and heels. "What," Raine questioned, an edge rising in her tone at the woman's blank stare. The provocative pirate's cocked eyebrow rose higher as perfectly manicured nails pressed into the material covering a swung-out hip.

"Sorry. . . Sorry," the woman apologized. "You're not from around here, huh?" Raine's eyes rolled in response. "Sorry; it's just. . . we don't get many visitors to this part of town. You must have quite the connections."

A dry scoff escaped Raine's throat, telling the woman to move on. At least now she understood why those stoic guards wouldn't let her through.

"Oh yes; Spirit. It's a local brand sold only on this island. My son's actually the one who designs it," the woman bragged. "He was inspired by the forest's guardian spirit."

That caught Raine's ear. She didn't believe in spirits or the like, but there was usually a good story behind legends. And, better yet, riches. After all, spirits had to protect something. "A spirit? What started that superstition?"

"No superstition. A guardian spirit resides in that forest, attacking any who wander too deep."

Emotion briefly flashed across Raine's face. "How strong is this guardian," she asked, unconciously chewing the inside of her bottom lip.

"That's a strange question. Don't tell me you're one of those hunters. Listen, young lady, stay out of that forest."

"Hunters?"

"Bounty hunters, treasure seekers," the shopkeeper informed, "all types of unscrupulous fellows come to this country for one reason or another involving that forest. So, which are you," she asked accusingly.

"None of the above. My friend just thought it would be fun to search the Illusory Forest before heading off to the Grand Line. He went there this morning."

"Fun," the attendant repeated in disbelief. "Wait. . . Illusory Forest?" Raine didn't like the change in tone. She'd obviously let something slip she shouldn't have, and it was too late to walk it back now. "Only people with connections to the underworld call it by that name," the shop owner informed a flustered Raine, her voice rising an octave out of fear. The forest's real name is Namijima Forest but locals call it the Bewitching Forest."

The woman's voice was becoming shakier and she began to speak faster as she continued. Lifting the back of her shirt, Raine reached for the baton stuck in the back of her shorts. This woman was about to do something stupid if Raine didn't calm her down soon.

"Merchants call it the Laughing Forest while it's become known as the Forest of Dreams in tall tales (Forest of Nightmares in scary stories). B-b-but. . . you-"

"Sorry, my parents were Marines and I got the name from some files they brought home. You know kids," Raine explained with a fake smile.

"O-of course, the older woman unconvincingly stuttered, letting out a cheap laugh as she continued to back her way towards the front desk. "Then I'll just call the guards so they can go get. . . your friend. It's. . . It's d-dangerous to go in there alone."

After fumbling around for the receiver, the woman turned around to dial the authorities. Raine's hand quickly clamped down over the woman's fat, sweaty digits, that fake smile still showing her pearly whites.

"No need. He can take care of himself; don't you worry."

* * *

"Dammit," Shaad cursed after being knocked from a tree. A low growl rumbled forth as he lifted up to a knee. "Why. . .won't. . .you. . .DIE!" Shaad's frustration exploded into a ball of rage. So did the wind in the area, whistling through the many trees in a mocking cacophony of cackles as the young pirate lost control in the face of an unseen foe.

* * *

Standing over the unconscious saleswoman and a customer unfortunate enough to walk in at the wrong time, Raine heard a commotion coming from outside.

". . . stranger. . . forest. . . wanted," was all she was able to parse out before peeking outside. There she found and half dozen uniformed individuals standing in formation while their apparent leader spoke with a well dressed elderly gentleman. They were talking too low for her to hear, but the leader's voice grew louder as he turned to address his men, giving Raine a better look at his face, a young, clean-shaven visage that didn't match his gravelly, booming voice.

"Alright men, we received word at approximately 0800 hours this morning of an unauthorized individual entering Namijima. He may be here to rendezvous with the criminal we chased down a few days ago. Set up a perimeter and advance on my mark. I want their heads by sundown."

A nervous feeling rose in the pit of Raine's stomach at the commander's orders. Obvious from the way they carried themselves, these weren't ordinary soldiers. As if to prove that point, the commander's attention piqued in Raine's direction prompting her to quickly duck behind the door.

* * *

Covered in cuts, Shaad strolled through thick foliage. As many times as he'd been thrown, dropped, abandoned, and left to die in forests across the world, Shaad had never been as pissed off at nature as he was right now.

"Finally," he grumbled, ducking under a low branch and pressing down the leaves of tall grass, "I'm out of that damn forest." Though, Shaad still leveled an annoyed glare at the beaming sun shining down. "Vega," Shaad's low voice growled to the open coast. With a hand shielding his eyes from the bright sun, Shaad focused on his breathing while he waited; trying to forcibly keep his temper level and under control always caused an air of edginess to flair upon stopping.

Within seconds, the sudden cover of shade alerted Shaad to Vega's presence and, his eyes slowly scanning upwards, a frown broke the even line of his lips as he noticed Vega's exposed torso as unblemished as usual.

"I hate you," Shaad muttered. "How the hell do you make it through that shit without a scratch?" He questioned his crewmate with a thinly veiled sour note to the remark.

Maybe it was the heat and the forest or maybe something was actually different, but Vega's masked, blank stare was grating on Shaad's nerves. "Whatever. You find anything?"

Shaad followed the slight shift of Vega's neck to a cluster of tropical trees a few dozen yards off to the side. Pushing aside the brush, Shaad was caught off guard by what he saw.

"Seriously!? A hot spring? I told you -" Shaad paused his little tirade, looking Vega squarely in his masked face. "What? Behind me? Su- Oh." Shaad ceased his complaining and glared at the young man now standing across from them at the water's edge.

"Who are you," the stranger demanded, immediately adopting a fighting stance.

Shaad ignored the inquiry, sizing up the lean, scarred youth, before posing a question of his own. "You the courier?"

The newcomer bristled at being disregarded so casually, snapping back his reply. "Who's asking?"

"Wow," Shaad sounded out, rolling his eyes and neck back to Vega. "Generic reply? Check. Definitely him."

The young man looked ready to rush the pair, his anger quickly mounting over being overlooked.

"No wonder you couldn't make it out of here." Shaad spoke casually, uncaring of the hostile glare being leveled at him. "I mean really. So much evil intent and we're here to help."

"Hmph, you ain't exactly putting me at ease," the young man remarked, noting Shaad's own killer intent casually permeating outwards.

Shaad smirked at that. The kid had potential; he wasn't being blatant by any means, yet he still got noticed. "That's because I don't trust you," Shaad clarified, a false smile crossing his lips. "But, for now, you need to come with us. And, bring whatever it is you're transporting."

Shaad turned his back on the courier, anticipating compliance. "Find Raine, and bring her to the far coast," Shaad commanded Vega in a low voice. "I'm sure Morrigan and his ship'll be here by noon tomorrow. I want us ready to go as soon as we hand over this one."

There was no word of reply. Vega was gone before Shaad could turn back after checking on the courier.

"Where's he going?"

"Don't you worry about that. I'm going to take a nap. Why don't you fetch me something to eat?" Shaad removed his tattered shirt and reclined against a tree, paying the scowling young man no mind as he drifted into reverie.

"Why don't ya git yer own damn food!? Matter a fact, ya can git it once we outta here. That's why ya here ain't it?"

"Yes it is," Shaad finally responded after a long break. And, the fact that I'm here means you can't get out of here on your own. So, I suggest you remove your hands. I'd hate to have to carry that chest myself."

The courier stared intently at Shaad's closed eyes. He'd wanted to wring the pirate's neck, but his hands were barely outstretched. How'd he know? That question lingered, but the courier pulled his hands back without a word. The forest was huge. And dangerous. The indignities hurt, but not completing his job would hurt worse. So, he'd take them. . . For now, at least.


	31. Nightfall

**Nightfall**

"Wha- Whoa. . . What's that smell," Shaad groggily questioned, sniffing the air as he woke from his slumber.

"Food. I made a stew," came the rather terse reply.

"Mmph; this is good," Shaad beamed, sipping from the bowl that had been offered him. "This is real good. . . How'd you like to join my crew?"

Overcoming his initial surprise, the young man balked at Shaad's offer. "Thanks, but I already have a job."

"Okay," Shaad accepted with a shrug. "More. . . How long was I out," Shaad inquired as his bowl was refilled.

"A couple o' hours."

"Ungh, I must've expended more energy than I thought." Shaad paused as he handed his bowl back for another serving. "What?"

"Huh?"

"Not you. . . Who? . . Aah, wonder what they want," Shaad groaned, finally standing to his feet and adjusting his fedora.

"What's going on," the courier all but demanded, standing up as well, his gaze jumping between Shaad and the newly arrived Vega.

"There's apparently some city guards headed our way. . . Alright, leave them be. Just meet us at the rendezvous by sunrise."

"Want any stew," the courier asked Vega, extending a bowl to the masked fighter.

"He's fine," Shaad answered, grabbing the bowl and downing its contents in an instant. "More importantly, we need to head out." Shaad had walked past the courier to the pot of stew, Vega disappearing in the time it took to look from one to the other. "The sun's almost down, and the moon'll be unreliable at best in that forest," Shaad continued while consuming the rest of the stew direct from the pot.

"Today's a new moon."

"Just freakin' great. Well, this'll be fun."

* * *

"You seem calm for someone who earlier wanted me dead." Shaad's attempt at small talk was a bit glum, but he was getting bored and didn't really care.

"I'm used to forging temporary alliances with enemies."

Shaad smiled without turning around to show it, only glancing over his shoulder enough to get a cursory glance at the chest being lugged along. "Since we're friends, then how 'bout you show me what we moving?"

"No." The response was short and stern, briefly eliciting a frown from Shaad.

"I been wonderin': where you get all the cooking equipment?"

"Always prepared."

"Really?" Shaad groaned an exaggerated, exasperated sigh. "Two words? I'm trying to be nice, here, and that's all ya give me? At least tell me what happened. How'd a good little delivery boy like yourself get beat by some plants.

The wind around them whipped up, stirring the leaves scattered on the ground. The trees provided a hoarse cackle. "Calm down, you idiot!" Shaad snapped. The wind's intensity flared in time with his outburst. Calm soon returned, but not before a stray leaf zipped by the courier, cutting across his cheek like a small knife. "Now, I don't know how. But, certain elements of this forest sense killing intent and it defends itself accordingly. Stay calm, follow my lead, and we make it out of here. Don't, and I carry you out of here. . . Either way, by morning, we'll be out of this damn forest. But, if you make me work harder than necessary. . ."

"The city guards. My boat crashed onto the island's east coast. Somebody must've alerted authorities 'cause when I came to, there were multiple armed guards. I took down the one checking on me, and eliminated the two standing over the package. Forced to flee, I ran into the tree line. They only pursued so far, but I couldn't turn back and the forest itself was a threat, so I went deeper in till I landed where you found me."

"So, -"

"Ssh."

"Wha-, you're the one wh-"

"Ssh," Shaad repeated more directly, reinforcing the instruction with a sharp leer. "I hear someone."

"You sure it ain't an animal?"

"I've spent hours in this forest and haven't seen hide nor hair of - _krunch_ \- Nope, that's definitely the sound of boots. By the sound of it, they really over did it. They're moving in groups of two, and there are at least three groups, likely more. . . Stay close."

Shaad and the courier rushed through the forest as fast as they could while still keeping track of their pursuers. Timing it right, they managed to just slip through a gap in the containment net. But, there was no time to revel as Shaad heard a highly unwanted sound nearing them. . . fast.

"Da fuck? Who uses hunting dogs on people," Shaad half shouted in surprise.

"What," the courier questioned, unaware of the impending threat.

"Wait for it; you'll see."

Shaad stopped and took up a defensive stance upon finding even a small clearing, determining running to be a futile act in the thick brush against an animal with his scent and a better sense of their surroundings.

A few short moments later, a brownish-black blur shot from the bushes, headed straight for the courier. Those extra few seconds gave Shaad's eyes just enough time to adjust to the different granules of black that dominated his vision. The courier reflexively pulled up one end of the chest, barely blocking the sudden lunge. The dog-like animal, though, shifted its weight and redirected the charge to Shaad. Shaad's fingers rapped against the hilts of his swords as he instinctively crouched to better confront the agile animal. The young pirate braced for impact as the flickering black mass drew closer in the darkness. But, suddenly that slim shadow Shaad was tracking began to grow in midair. In less than a second, Shaad was looking up as nothing but that shadow monopolized what little he could see, and it was all he could do to remember to cross his swords in front of himself. Still, he was blasted back, a thick tree knocking the wind from him as he was brought to a stop.

In no time, Shaad was back to his feet, and in less time, he lay flat on the ground, shades of black dancing before his eyes, mocking him. It was his own fault for being unprepared, and as he again hopped to his feet, frustration built and anger seeped. Shaad lashed out. His lack of sight rendered it little more than a blind rage, and as his rage increased further, his senses invariably dulled, outside sounds rendered inaudible by the rushing wind.

If not for his tumultuous temper, Shaad would've heard the encroaching footsteps of armored soldiers, but as it stood, he was soon surrounded with more closing in. All the while, the raging winds trapped the men in a whirlwind of leaves more reminiscent of a violently circulating cage of knives.

* * *

Kneeling in a field of high-stalked flowers, blood dripped from two gunshot wounds on his right arm. The first, a through and through, ripped through his flesh so fast, he barely felt it thanks to the adrenaline flooding his system, but the second struck bone and floored him. Despite the intense pain, being shot did help him with one thing: to slow down and take inventory of his situation.

It was often an exercise in futility to keep his anger from running amok under normal circumstances, but in this strange wilderness that hot temper was a runaway freight train with no brakes. Shaad kneeled on the ground, fists clenched around the hilts of his two swords, with a heated glare scanning the suffocating darkness. Hearing what sounded like a twig being crunched underfoot, Shaad exploded off the ground with such force that indents in the earth were left behind. Flashing out with his swords, he felt the resistance that only a human body could offer against his blades and heard the satisfying screams of a wounded prey. Experience told him, the job wasn't finished, though. Crossing his left arm to deliver the finishing strike, a bullet struck the raised blade, costing Shaad precious seconds before he was unceremoniously bulled over by a precise rising shoulder into his ribs.

The person didn't feel all that big, but angle and unpreparedness were nonetheless enough to send Shaad careening into the swirling leaves surrounding them, cutting into his back like barbed wire before punching him back into the fray. He was trapped with enemies in front, and a barrier behind. The feeling reminded him of being locked in the cage fighting Vega. It got his blood boiling, but also prompted a deadly calm to descend onto him.

With his foreboding, newfound focus, Shaad heard a distinct bang, muffled to no more than a whisper in the ever-raging wind storm, from his right before feeling the familiar sting of a bullet grazing his arm.

'Four shots, three hits,' Shaad mulled, flexing the fingers of his wounded arm to keep the blood flow running smoothly. 'Somebody's not shooting blind.'

Shaad naturally wore his emotions on his sleeve, a trait that was quickly beaten under control by his dad. Emotions made sheep of men; all control was predicated on emotional control. In line with that idea, Shaad's early life under his father's tutelage was largely built on learning to control his baser instincts lest he be controlled by them. That intense 'tough love' (though neither Shaad nor his father would use that term) did little, however, to curb the youth's temper.

But, while Shaad remained quite susceptible to his temper, he no longer lost himself to it, anger instead serving as an unmatched source of strength and focus aimed at the nearest target. In the darkness that surrounded them, however, the nearest target wasn't such a simple thing to discern. While there were probably any number of ways to sniff out the enemy given time and a plan, strategies weren't a hallmark of Shaad's when flustered. Instead, he tended towards the direct route, and with his own anger and killing intent plus that of the others in the area being somehow turned back on him by the plants and pollen floating about, he definitely wasn't going to delay gratifying his rising bloodlust worrying about a strategy. Instead, he considered simply indulging his base desires in that instant.

'This forest reacted to physically protect itself from me when I was alone, right,' he mentally asked himself.

'Yeah. Why?'

'Now that there's multiple sources of killer intent, it's content just letting us kill each other off. That must mean it's not as worried right now.'

'What are you thinking?'

'I'm thinking we should do a little experiment. Things are about to get real interesting,' Shaad mused, a sinister smirk playing on his lips as the malice and killer intent he exuded suddenly spiked, inciting a violent reaction from the forest around them.

Left with an unconstrained rage and no clear direction, Shaad's mindset was reduced to that instilled in his very instincts. However, due to his very peculiar upbringing that was more helpful than one might initially figure.

《《《 • • • 》》》

"Hah; got ya," a skinny, young Shaad confidently declared from behind a tall figure dressed in a double breasted, black three piece suit with matching hat.

With one sword aimed and ready to pierce the target's heart from behind and the second sword, crossing over the first, rested with blade against the foe's neck, Shaad wrongly let himself revel in the satisfaction of success before a coarse voice resounded from behind him.

"Fail."

Shaad's shoulders slumped, a dour expression taking hold. "That's not fair," the young boy solemnly whined as the dark figure withered before his very eyes, unfazed by the diamond handle of his father's cane pressed firmly enough into his neck to draw a sliver of blood.

"Life's not fair. Now-"

Shaad smirked, the tips of his blades pointed at his father's stomach forcing the cane away to otherwise block the surprise attack. But, the smug self-assurance was short lived as a closed fist slammed onto the top of his head.

"Don't get cocky," his father snarled, though a hint of pride shone on his face. "You still failed to eliminate your target and half his entourage," the older gentleman scolded while the 'dead' men -having easily blocked what otherwise would have been lethal strikes - stood up and relaxed alongside those left untouched.

"My target's a hair's breadth from the end of my blades and the ones I didn't get are in no position to do anything," Shaad defended himself. It was indeed true that from where Shaad was, his father stood between him and any would be enemies without even a clear line of sight. "With my speed, and this close together, anybody else in your position would be as good as dead."

That declaration earned Shaad another swift whack upside the head, this time hard enough to leave a lump and make him forget the situation.

"Ouch!"

"Of the people standing here, you're the weakest one by far. And, even if they were closer to a level where you could take them, it was the flanks you left untouched. . . Okay, say you do kill the leader, then what? While you do that they'll be getting in better position. You already can't attack one without the other striking you from behind."

"Human shield?"

"There's two of them on opposite sides. Even if you could keep the target's dead body between you and one of them, you've lost the element of surprise. Head-on won't be so easy for you."

"Run," Shaad questioned, even more unsure of himself after the terse takedown of his first guess.

"To where," Shaad's father's voice boomed as he spread his arms out wide, motioning to the area around them. "You picked this pass because of the narrow pathway and dearth of escape routes: a rocky hillside to the right and densely packed trees to the left. Try going back and they can cut you off. Take your chances in the trees, and you'll run into the river behind us, the cliff edge deeper in, or be funneled back onto the path up ahead. They can easily circle around either way and wait. That leaves you the option of running straight ahead. Tell me, do you know what's up there?"

The expression on Shaad's face spoke volumes even as he lowered his eyes and dare not speak.

"Exactly," the Baron almost shouted, gripping Shaad's chin and forcing the boy's eyes to meet his. "You've officially become the hunted."

"B-But," Shaad's voice was wrought with nerves as he tried to speak up. "Couldn't I use the moment of surprise after killing the target to split the enemy and make a dash back. There's a dead end ravine just past the bridge and to the left. If I can lure them there -"

"You're assuming they'll hesitate just because you killed the presumed leader. Hired guns won't give pause just because the charge is gone. Besides, any surprise would come after the first body drops. By this point. . . You. Have. Their. Full. Attention." The Baron's words were deliberate. This time, he didn't bother wrenching his son's attention back to him. When he spoke again, though, his voice was softer and his words encouraging.

"You're a smart kid; that's what you got going for ya. You've already internalized all the basic squad formations as well as how to exploit any given one. You just need to learn to read the psychology of people. Take out the head, the body may sputter or it may fall. But, there's not a man on this Earth who won't hesitate when everyone around him -"

《《《 • • • 》》》

"- drops dead. You're all alone now," Shaad taunted the gunman. Pushing his legs to their limit, Shaad literally ran through every squad pattern he knew until he found the right one. Then, the bodies fell one after the other. Even if the gunman could track him in this darkness, the two men each impaled on one of his blades provided perfect cover as he crouched by a tree near the edge, his back to the field, but his ears listening intently.


	32. Asking For It

**Asking For It**

"Hey, idiot. Wake up! Shaad," Raine called, none too gently slapping her unconscious captain to an alert state.

Vega, having carried Shaad to their location, stood stoically off to the side, his masked eyes remaining constantly vigilant in scanning their surroundings. The high cliff provided great vantage points all around and allowed the rising sun to shine brightly on the inert young captain.

"Shaad! Shaad! Ugh."

"Oh yeah, baby, say my name," Shaad drowsily mumbled, movement slowly returning to his extremities as his fingers clenched air.

Raine, though, was clearly unamused by his sleep talk. Her eyebrows raised as she roused him enough to hear her more clearly with a few more firm slaps. Shaad's eyes steadily opened, first noticing the creamy skin just beside him before roving past the pair of toned thighs to see his stern faced navigator's steely gaze staring back at him. Raine, as she was wont, smoothly adopted a sultry stare, leaning closer so Shaad could hear her soft spoken words as her hand gently traced down his exposed, slightly scarred chest.

"Pleasant dream?"

"Hmm. Oh, it felt so real. . . Ouch, that hurt," Shaad cried out, suddenly wide awake as his hands flew to where he'd just been hit.

"Mmm; that's good," Raine teased. "Now, get up."

Shaad took a moment to get his bearings, mumbling curses while massaging the bruise beginning to form on his side.

"What happened," Raine impatiently asked after a minute or two.

Shaad gave one more attempt at shaking the cobwebs cluttering his mind loose before a shooting pain in his right arm distracted him from that as well. "Some bastard came after us," Shaad began, his eyes lingering on the bloody strips of cloth tied around his arm. "Complete darkness. I was disadvantaged so I did sumthin' stupid. Guess it backfired. I don't remember much after that."

"Hmph, you're lucky Vega found you and brought you here. Those gunshot wounds could easily have become infected," Raine huffed. "Now, can we get the hell off this island?"

Shaad grinned at Raine's behavior. If he didn't know better, he'd say she cared. "Thanks." But, then Shaad thought about it. "What about the courier?"

"I don't know," Raine answered with a shrug.

Turning to Vega, his tongue almost caught in his throat. The masked fighter was covered in a myriad of fresh scars all over his torso. Most were shallow, but a few deeper ones looked like he pushed against a blade with his bare chest.

"Vega, let Raine treat those scars. I'm going back."

"What!? Ugh, I just bought this bottle, too," Raine falsely complained, shaking a half empty bottle of bourbon. "Fine, but you're on your own to get back."

Shaad merely gave a two finger salute over his shoulder as he marched back to the sea of trees. Drawing his blades, Shaad made no attempt at calming himself, instead making peace with his anger, his unconstrained ire. 'You want my rage. Let's see how well you react to this.'

Shaad appeared as calm as could be though the air around him brought about a deathly chill as he strolled towards the treeline. With a single swipe of his black-bladed Tairyoku, Shaad leveled a row of trees, almost uprooting a towering pair before matching the destructive blow with a swing from the gleaming Chiryoku.

This was Shaad completely unleashed, clearing a swath of trees with each mighty swing.

The sheer breadth and power of the focused, casual destruction briefly stunned Raine such that she briefly didn't notice the tensing muscles as more alcohol than intended sloshed on Vega's open wounds.

A trail of destruction marking his path, Shaad ventured deeper into the strange forest, his oppressive aura not once lessening or faltering while the once lively surroundings made not a shift or a whisper as if frightened or in awe. Eventually, Shaad found it: a clearing, littered with listless leaves, separated from any supposed 'path' by a ring of half bare trees. The smell of death was strong as a half dozen bodies ley strewn about, each butchered with innumerable cuts and stabs. The bloody scene pulled scrambled memories to the fore with punishing clarity. This was his fault, but not his doing.

'Fighters' of leaves summoned by Shaad's violent intent. Like striking ghosts with rebounding force of solid content. In each case, credit for the kill was Shaad's to claim, but for the pain preceding, he was not to blame.

It had been chaos. Chaos of Shaad's design. And, Shaad thrived when the chaos was his doing. But, even that level of chaos - with inhuman foes all around - didn't adequately explain the extensiveness of his own injuries. The answer to that unasked question came as he approached the body, unconscious but steady, shallow breaths indicating life, of the leader, a fairly young man distinguishable from the rest by the more personalized uniform.

Switching his handle on both swords to a more natural reverse grip, a part of Shaad contemplated killing the young commander right there. Flashes of their past fight stormed through his mind, vivid recollections of each intense clash and the silent bang of each gunshot in the deafening midst of their personal cage. Every fiber of his being screaming at him to end the threat that was the man at his feet, the raging, all-encompassing blaze that was Shaad's anger briefly flickered down as he slowly, almost hesitantly moved away from the young man, momentarily entertaining the idea of giving the worthy foe a new scar to join the one running through the stubble he called a beard.

As if only now becoming aware of the dangerous presence that was Shaad, a furious wind whipped up for a split second before backing off as Shaad again regained that tenuous, taut balance. Not noticing the labored breathing behind him from the newly conscious commander, Shaad focused his attention on a new objective: recovering the courier. Clearing a path with a few deadly strokes, Shaad first spotted a handful of dead guards, some killed with precision, but a few more recent dead looking decidedly more butchered. Letting his eyes trail further up the field of foliage, Shaad caught sight of his target fending off ghosts, the specters dispersing at the advent of a suffocating darkness borne of light.

Not sensing the threat of the new presence, the courier pivoted with all the skill of a trained fighter and leveled a solid hook at the foe. But, Shaad, unflinching, weaved back just out of the punch's range before delivering his own. This one landing cleanly and leaving the image of knuckles imprinted on the unfortunate courier's cheek. Falling languidly backwards, the courier crashed into the chest before both came to a stop at a tree, the force flinging open the chest's lid as its possessor slumped over the front end.

The unconscious courier on one shoulder and the large chest being dragged behind, Shaad made his way out of the forest to meet up with his crew, his phlegmatic rage giving way to a serene calm with each step.

"Who's he," Raine asked as Shaad drew closer.

"The courier," Shaad answered, dumping the dead weight between the three of them. "Never bothered getting a name."

"And, what? We're gonna hand over an unconscious body and a chest to Captain Morrigan or do you plan to wake him up from his beauty sleep?"

"Neither. Change in plans," Shaad announced, earning a raised eyebrow from his navigator as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Change in plans?" Calling Raine's tone skeptical would be an understatement as she scoffed at Shaad's gall. "You pulled us into this because of the threat of reprisal from your 'uncle'. Now, what? Screw it? Screw him? You want us to follow you on what; the assumption that a cold-hearted bastard respects your father enough to not have us killed?"

Feeling words inadequate, Shaad instead slung the closed chest over to her and Vega. "Open it."

Raine gave a low scoff, but otherwise did as told. Scanning the chest's contents before looking back to Shaad for an answer.

"You know what that is, right?"

"Sparkle. So," Raine answered, attitude seeping into her voice at Shaad's vagueness. "You want to try and sell it yourself or something?"

"Morrigan lied to me."

"Hmm? How? He never said what the cargo was, just to get it."

"Two things: Uncle Black doesn't directly deal in drugs, and sparkle gets its name from the way it, well, sparkles. That's barely shimmering; Uncle would never deal in such low quality product."

"So, what's your point?"

"Morrigan's coming here for something, but it's not this chest. He. . . or Uncle. . . or both manipulated the circumstances to put me right here in the middle of it all. There has to be a reason, and I want to know what it is. What is Morrigan coming to pick up? Why get me involved at all?"

"The courier was stuck in the forest, right," Raine reasoned. "Both you and Vega suffered injuries in there and rumor has it, it's quite common to get turned around without an authorized guide. Throw in the guards, and it's no surprise they asked for your help. Morrigan even said he could use his own men, but you'd have an easier time managing."

"I thought that, too, but when Vega and I finally met up with the courier, he barely had a scratch on him. Now, unless he's just weird like our friend here, that means he's at least above my base level and he probably acclimated to the forest faster than I did. Assuming he was smart about it, he could've made his way out of the forest and lay in wait for Morrigan's ship to arrive. Additionally, I asked him while we were heading this way, and his story just doesn't make sense."

"Inconsistent?"

"No; perfect. There were no holes in it at all and everything added up to the current situation at the time."

"Huh? So, because something makes sense you don't trust it? What kind of dumbass reasoning is that?" Raine was clearly getting fed up with Shaad's conspiracy theory, railing against his 'logic'. "You ever think they ain't tell you because you didn't need to know. Maybe it's not the drugs, maybe it is. But, you were a hell of lot more comfortable before you saw what's inside that chest, weren't you? Ya ever think, his story made sense cause - oh, I don't know - it's true." Sarcasm was dripping from Raine's words now.

"If you grew up like I did, you'd know the truth is rarely that flawless. It takes a good liar to craft a perfectly fitting narrative. But, a great liar sets up a flawed tale and lets the truth fill in the blanks."

"Oh. My. God," Raine deadpanned. "Are you serious right now? Well, how about this. We have one of the starring characters for this drama unfolding in your head right here. How 'bout you just ask him? But, careful, he may just end up telling the truth."

Shaad ignored the derisive tone from his navigator, but would acknowledge her idea had merits. He was in complete control now, and there was still about an hour until Morrigan arrived. The perfect stage from which to conduct an interrogation.

Roughly yanking the unconscious courier up by his collar and slamming him into the chest with all the care of a toddler playing with a new toy, Shaad crouched in front of the young man to look him in the eye. The courier was jarred into a daze from having his head bang against the solid rim of the chest before Shaad helped him finish the journey to a semi-alert state with a few measured backhands.

"Hey! Come on now. Focus!" Shaad, his voice coarse and stern, yelled and snapped his fingers for the courier's attention.

"Ow. . . W- Where are we," came the eventual, groggy reply.

"I'm asking the questions."

"What? . . . Ugh. I don't have time for games; I got a delivery to make."

"Good; we're on the same page. This should go smoothly then, "Shaad declared, a disquieting edge to his voice.

* * *

Raine was visibly uncomfortable watching Shaad come just a hair's breadth short of beating the young man unconscious for the same string of innocuous, easily explained answers. After trying, and failing, to pull her captain back, Raine's gaze shifted heavily, from the trees to the coastline to the distant town. Occasionally, her eyes would come back to Shaad and his quarry to see if he were done only to quickly turn away. She'd seen Shaad serious before, but never just flat out angered.

Vega, on the other hand, stood nonplussed by the whole scene, the expressionless mask he wore not once wavering.

With a frustrated growl, Shaad lifted the courier's limp body up only to let it collapse to the ground seconds later. "Vega. . . rip his throat out. If he doesn't want to talk, he has no need for it."

Donning his special 'Claw' from behind the sash tied around his waist, Vega was ready to comply without a moment's hesitation. But, Raine stepped in between the two.

"Did no one ever teach you, you'll catch more flies with honey? I can see Morrigan's ship on the horizon and you've gotten nowhere."

"No, but I was taught everyone always has two choices in life: his are help me or die. So, would helping me be the honey?"

"Ugh. . . Just let me talk to him, alright? . . Back off, Vega." Raine tapped Vega's arm to get him to drop the courier. Shaad affirmed the directive when Vega checked back over his shoulder, and the courier was pushed to the ground while Shaad turned around to give Raine a bit of space.

Before he even took two steps, though, the sound of a den den mush ringing pulled his attention back to the courier.

His hands literally tied, Raine checked his jacket pockets for the snail, handing it to Shaad when she found it while Vega made sure he could not speak.

 _Kaclunk_. Silence hung in the air for minutes on end. Shaad could say nothing or risk whoever was on the other end hanging up, and he would've hung up himself if not for the imitative facial expressions of the den den mushi telling him the person was still on the line. . . and growing increasingly frustrated, apparently. After almost three whole minutes, that frustration boiled over.

"Okay, who tha fuck do you think you are not saying nothing!? Making me look uncool by having to speak first. You better have a good ass reason before I have you killed twice! And, that's not even including punishment for killing True!"

Shaad winced at the angry shouting, not understanding most of the angry curses that followed. Once there was finally a near silence, he chose to start by resolving the simplest issue. "If True is the courier, he's not dead. He just can't talk right now. But, maybe you can answer my questions."

"Ah, he speaks. Well, you've saved yourself one death. Let's see how much you really want to live? What's your name, boy?"

A vein in Shaad's forehead nearly popped. He didn't react well to being disrespected, and even more so to being called boy. Ironically, it was probably that anger that kept him from crushing the den den mushi receiver; he needed a name for who to kill for disrespecting him.

"I'm the one asking the questions! You'll answer or your boy, True, is dead!"

An exaggerated sigh was the initial response. "Understand, the only life being bargained for here is yours, and right now you're losing. You already owe me two deaths; whether that number increases or decreases is up to you. Now, name."

"Ugh. Vega, kill him!"

"Back to three, it is. And, this Vega gets one himself. Now, you can either tell me the name of the fool who embarrassed me and we can talk or you can go get started on picking out caskets and tombstones."

Shaad held up a hand to hold off Vega. He was angry, not stupid. And, that wasn't just some child's confident bluff. There was a deafening silence as he figured out how to proceed.

"Shaad; his name is Shaad!"


	33. Payoff

**Payoff**

"Shaad; his name is Shaad!"

"Raine, what are you doing!?"

"I'm not letting you get us killed cause o' your damn anger issues."

"Wh-"

"Thank you, Miss Raine. And, very well said. With that settled, we can actually hold a civilized conversation. Unfortunately, since you didn't tell me yourself, no credit for you. As a matter of fact. . . you owe me four deaths for being rude to Miss Raine. You're really behind the eight ball now. So, Shaad, how - . . . Wait. Shaad? As in Rashaad; Cornelious Rashaad," the caller asked curiously, his surprise evident.

"Who's asking," Shaad growled.

"Wait, hold on a sec." Papers could be heard rustling in the background as Shaad only grew angrier at being ignored. "Damn. . . It's your cousin, you idiot. Five-Star. . . Actually, I go by Kingfisher now."

"Aaron?"

"Kingfisher; call me Kingfisher. It's so much cooler."

"No," Shaad answered curtly.

"Harsh, dude. Harsh. . . If you've run into True, you must be at the Illusory Forest. Miss Raine, if you'd be so kind, search my idiot cousin's clothes for flowers. If you see any with white and red petals, like a fire burning towards the center, crush them. His attitude should return to normal after that."

"What are you talking about, Aaron?"

"Research, my dumb friend. If you ever did any, you'd know the plant I just described is the Fire Sprite, they're valued as rage agents. Something, meatheads prone to losing their temper such as yourself should stay away from."

"You will stop talking down to me. We're not children anymore."

"Aah, see. You're calming down already," Aaron mocked just as Raine pulled away a couple of the described petals and one full flower. "You should also probably be cautious of running into any Venus Scents. They're naturally powerful aphrodisiacs used in perfumes and all sorts of other products. It should be easy enough to recognize them. They're more colloquially known as Lady's Flowers because they resemble. . . well, a lady's. . . flower. Anyway, be careful of them; we wouldn't want you making unwanted advances on the beautiful Miss Raine."

"Just shut up, Aaron. And, you don't even know what Raine looks like."

"Are you calling Miss Raine ugly?"

"Yeah, are you," Raine teased, smirking at the obvious discomfort on Shaad's face.

"That is what I heard. But, what you fail to understand, is that all women are beautiful, and, call it intuition, but I can tell that Miss Raine is quite exceptionally lovely indeed."

"Thank you, Kingfisher"

"You are more than welcome, Miss Raine. Unfortunately, all this has gotten me sidetracked from the original purpose of my call. . . Wake up True and have him get his lazy ass to the meeting spot. He knows better than to be sleeping on the job. He has a delivery to make, and if he's late it reflects poorly on the company."

"Fine," Shaad said, motioning to Vega to rouse the knocked out courier. "But, answer me this: what is he really transporting, and why drag me into the middle of it?"

"What? To your first question. You know I can't answer that; company policy. As for the second, I don't know. I'd assume unforeseen circumstances, but I had nothing to do with it so I can't say for sure."

"Cut the crap, Aaron," Shaad demanded, a twinge of anger creeping back into his tone.

"Ugh, your father really should've taught you how to ask for a favor."

"I know this is a deal between you and Uncle Black with a Captain Morrigan set up as the recipient. I've also seen inside the chest. Uncle Black doesn't deal in drugs and he'd never bother with such low quality crap."

"Oi! You just exposed a lot of information that even I don't record for safety reasons. You're lucky this call is secure. As for your claims, fine. But, first, those aren't drugs. That's sugar in those bags. Regular old sugar. The real product is inside of them. Now, let True go do his job. Even if you are family, I've still got to record that you owe me four deaths plus one for Vega. But, so long as you don't continue to interfere, I can make collection on that debt a low priority."

"Your weak, little man will have to wait. First, you are gonna tell me what's in the baggies or I'll cut each one open myself."

"So young yet so foolish. But, you did say something interesting. If you can legitimately call True weak, then you must have grown quite a bit stronger. Allow me to update my power metric on you, and I'll deduct two deaths from what you owe me."

"If I kill True right now, no amount of owed deaths on my part is gonna complete this delivery, and there goes the Company's sterling reputation."

"Boss!"

". . . That's low, Shaad. Real low, even for you."

"You have no idea how low I can go. However, out of respect, if you get me a ship, I'll let him go."

"A ship? How the fuck does that relate to this?"

"Ours was damaged getting involved in this mess. That's now become your problem as well."

"You're calling that little dinghy a ship," Raine scoffed.

"Hey, that was a good boat. Right, Vega," Shaad objected, looking to the masked man for support. Vega merely turned away. "Not you, too."

Aaron knew attempted extortion when he heard it even without the aside, but knowing doesn't change the circumstances.

"I can't give you a ship, but feel free to take all the money True has on him."

"But, boss -"

"Already done."

"What," Aaron and Shaad simultaneously exclaimed in surprise before a soft chuckle pulled attention from the fan of bills Raine was displaying.

"A woman who knows what she wants. Gotta respect that," Aaron commented.

"Uh-Huh," Shaad grumbled with an accompanying eye roll.

"This is nice and all," Raine chimed in, putting the money back into her pocket, "but it doesn't solve the issue of transport."

"Hmph. Very shrewd," Aaron stated, the compliment earning a look of distaste from Shaad. "As I'm sure you're used to hearing, you are indeed right, Miss Raine."

"We could just take his," Shaad suggested, nodding in the direction of the conspicuously silent courier.

"That could work," Raine agreed.

"Uh, no. No, that couldn't," Aaron objected in a flustered tone. His boat is for one person; you know that, Shaad. . . True, give them the Eternal Pose."

As Vega cut True's hands loose and the young man reached into his jacket's breast pocket for the Pose, Shaad eyed the den den mushi with a discerning gaze. "You planned this, didn't you?"

"What?" The faux surprise in that reaction was unabashed. "Why so cynical, Cuz?"

"Your hands are never clean."

"No, you're just predictable. . . Now, you will have to find your own way into the Grand Line as well as a Log Pose once you get there, but if you take one of the baggies from the chest, that'll be enough for a decent ship. Now, let True be on his way. There's not much time."

Shaad hadn't even got another word out before he heard the click from the other end. Aaron had already hung up. True was already on his feet, straightening his clothes as best he could.

"Wish I could say it's been fun," he said with a sneer.

"It's at least been profitable," Shaad mocked, holding up the baggie as True ran off.

"I'll take that." Raine snatched the plastic bag from Shaad's hand, grabbing the knife at the back of his waist to cut it open.

"What the fuck is this," Raine yelled, wide eyes bringing creases to her flawless face.

It was Shaad's turn to chuckle at Raine's reaction.

"What are you laughing at!? That bastard tried to make a fool of us," Raine vented as she poured the contents of the bag onto ground, shaking the clear plastic empty over the pile of sugar to accentuate her point.

"Told ya," was all Shaad had to say, though.

"What!? He owes us and you still owe me. Vega catch that ass, True or whatever his name is, and get me my money!"

"Stay there, Vega," Shaad commanded, a smile still present on his lips. "We're not gonna do anything of the sort. I still wanna know what he was actually here for, but. . . we lost this time."

"So, now what? We turn tail and run?"

"Did you accidently keep one of those fire sprites? You seem a bit upset." Shaad's casual attitude only further stoked the ire of his navigator. "No, okay," he finally answered seriously, holding up his hands in a calming fashion. "We're not gonna run, but we are gonna move on. We can stay at an Inn on the outskirts of town; the bartender, and owner, there is good people."

"Fine," Raine grumbled, "but you're carrying my stuff."

"Of course, madam," Shaad quipped, a bow adding flourish to the statement.

《《《 • • • 》》》

"Good, you're here." Captain Morrigan looked up from signing a form to acknowledge the newly arrived courier. "We'll speak in my quarters. Dahl, take over here."

"Why did you bring that chest onto my ship? I'll assume it has something to do with that black eye."

"That patsy you chose is a nosy fuck. I think he wanted to kill me."

"Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers; he fell right into our laps. Besides, if things went too far, you could've just eliminated him. Flynn might prefer a breathing suspect, but he has just as much stake in not getting caught as we do."

"I'd say; the heads of this city probably wouldn't like that the people protecting them are taking such a volatile substance."

"Haahaha. I see why He likes you; you've got a lot to learn, kid. That wasn't for the soldiers. It was for the people." Morrigan saw True's eyebrows raise at that, and gave another chuckle. "Politics, son. Poor folks don't like seeing money just out of reach. Why you think they got that big ass wall? We provide the tools for keeping the masses placated and in return gain a loyal man with access to the governing elites. So, where's the payment he gave you?"

True straightened up then, reaching into his jacket for the item. After searching one pocket then the other, his face dropped and worry donned.

《《《 • • • 》》》

"Thanks for letting us stay here."

"I owed you one."

"We'll be heading out tomorrow," Shaad assured the elderly bartender as he refilled Raine's glass.

Shaad and Raine had hardly said a word to one another since separating from True. For some reason, Shaad always felt awkward and, at least partially, at fault when they weren't speaking. It didn't help that when he wasn't talking to her, he was usually left talking to himself. Though he'd never admit, his inner dialogue could get quite annoying. And, Vega, while a decent conversationalist, wasn't really all that interesting a talker. Shaad stared deep into the swirling liquid as he unconsciously twirled his glass, wanting to break the awkward silence.

"Aaron may have played us, but at least there's some good news."

"And, what's that," Raine scoffed, absent-mindedly playing with the straw in her drink.

"My debt to you is paid," Shaad said with a bit of a forced smile.

Raine looked him in his eyes. A genuine smirk crossed her lips. Those full, voluptuous lips. Shaad shook the thought away, forcing concentration before her intoxicating chuckle almost put him in a trance. "Nice try, but no. That money would've been for the crew. The crew's money is my money, and until you pay your debt, your money is mine. But, the crew's money is not your money."

"However," Raine cooed into his ear, leaning in far more than she needed to. Shaad felt her ample breasts pressed against his arm while one of her hands cradled his chin, "if you're that eager to be paid up with me, I'm sure we can agree on something." Shaad searched for his voice to tell her to stop, but his dry mouth betrayed him. Instead, he merely swallowed the growing lump in his throat as her hand walked down his back and felt around his front. "How about you sell your body for me," she teased with a full- throated laughter at the side eye Shaad cast on her.

"I'm glad you're having fun." Shaad tried to sound upset. He failed miserably, his voice too high to hide where his mind went. "I still owe you, and now I owe Aaron as well. How much money did we get off True, at least?"

"Just several thousand beli; nothing special. What'd he mean you owe him four deaths, anyway? You can only die once, right?"

"It's something his dad, my real uncle, started. One death means they kill you, any more means they kill that many people close to you. Though, Aaron's not too fond of killing women, so you'd be safe. Probably. Wouldn't really have many options."

Raine just stared at Shaad, not enjoying his brand of dry humor.

"Don't worry; I may owe him, but he'd never put family down for a life debt. Anyway, we barely have 50,000 beli. We have the eternal pose, but we still need a way into the Grand Line before we start worrying about how to pay for a ship. Plus, even with a ship, we ain't going nowhere in the Grand Line without a Log."

"One of those is taken care of," Raine stated, flashing the log pose strapped to her wrist. "True was nice enough to offer his. And, maybe we can sell these for some extra cash and a ride," she suggested, pulling a pair of golden tickets with a strange insignia from her bra with a cheeky smirk.

"That symbol looks familiar. Where'd you get those?"

"I told you before, I'm very good with my hands." Raine's sultry voice sang into Shaad's ear while her hands played along the outline of his musculature.

Shaad opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of glass breaking pulled his attention elsewhere.

"Wh-where'd did you get those," the bartender hissed lowly yet forcefully, bounding over to the two and pressing Raine's hand down onto the bar.

Shaad's hand shot to Raine's, holding them still while simultaneously motioning for the bartender to stand back while a vicious glare bore from Raine's eyes.

"Okay; everybody just calm down." Shaad pleaded with them both before turning to the bartender. "Explain. What are these?"

It wasn't until the bartender had calmed down that Shaad noticed how quiet the bar had gotten. Every eye on the joint was focused in their direction.

"She said yes," Shaad cheered, distracting the crowd from the unintended scene. "The next round's on me!" With those few words - as tended to be the case - the patrons cheered loudly and returned to their own devices shortly thereafter. "Your daughters can handle them. You stay here. . . Now, talk," Shaad demanded before the gentleman could take his leave to tend the other patrons.

"Th-That is the crest of the royal family," he stammered, a shaky finger pointing to the insignia at the center of the tickets. They are the head of the elite governing council that runs this city. Every four years on the eve of the Reverie, they host a little party. Invited nobles and world leaders from across this side of the Red Line gather at Gold Peak. From there, they all board a massive luxury ship and head on to Mariejois."

"I take it these are invitations?"

The old man nodded his head. "And, if the city guards find out you have them, the full force of this city will come down on you."

"No worries, then. These are secondhand, and we're leaving in the morning." Shaad offered a friendly smile, but the bartender remained nervous, almost shaking. "Listen," Shaad began, looking the man in his eyes. "I promise no harm will come to you, your daughters, or your bar."

A tense silence settled between the two sides as the bartender weighed his options. He could say no, but there was no telling how these two might react. They were strangers to the island, an unknown. Or, he could just alert the authorities, but that would put his family in the middle when a fight broke out. On the other hand, it was just one night. If what they said was true, there'd be no reason for the guards to suspect them and even less to know where they were.

"Fine, but it'll cost you extra. And, you pay up front."

Shaad smirked. "You got it."

Raine then returned the invitations to her bra before taking another drink while her other hand dropped to her side. Shaad stewed on his thoughts, a pensive expression pulling at his features, before he shot erect in his seat moments later. He soon relaxed his posture, and reached for his own glass.

"You know I don't carry a wallet," he said with a grumble, trying to keep a straight face."

"I know," Raine smirked, her out of sight hand not moving from where it was as she gave Shaad a wink.

Seconds later, Shaad released a deep breath when she stood up, laying a few bills on the counter and grabbing the rest of a nearby bottle. "I'm going up."

Shaad watched as she walked away. "I'll be waiting, lover boy," Raine crooned back, drawing his eyes up to the swaying bottle as she ascended the stairs without looking back.

Swearing he could see her mocking smirk, nonetheless, Shaad downed the rest of his soda, and pushed away from the bar. Walking out and around to the back, he spotted Vega training. "Hey, Vega," he called out. "I'm a bit on edge. How bout we go a round? . . . Don't worry about holding back," he added, his swords brandished in front of him.


	34. Limit

**Limit**

"Wake up! Hurry, you need to get out of here!"

Shaad was groggy and lethargic. Considering how he usually slept, it was a small miracle he awoke at all for anything less than an earthquake. That sentiment might have been premature, though, as he felt what sounded like a small one approaching. Through half lidded eyes, he saw a fluttering pass by the open door. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he heard another call to wake up - this time from down the hall - and felt Raine stir next to him.

Wait, Raine? Shaad checked to be certain, and then began the process of sorting out what happened last night.

"Guards! The city guards are coming this way; everybody up!"

"I knew it." Shaad nudged Raine and started getting dressed, content in the presumption that whatever happened, it was Raine's doing not his.

After pulling on his pants, Shaad ran to the window to check outside. "They're moving door to door. And, fast. We need to get a move on," Shaad called over his shoulder. Almost immediately, his eyes were back peering onto the street, a slight blush to his cheeks.

"No need to be shy. . . Especially not after last night." Raine's tone was sultry. Coaxing.

"Hurry." The word had more bite than Shaad intended as he blindly groped for his shirt laying at the foot of the bed.

"Mhm. So forceful. Careful, or I might not be able to control myself," she teased while hooking on a bra.

"Stop playing around; they're almost next door."

"Ah, you're no fun."

"That's not what you said last night." The words were more a reflex than anything. Both of them smirked, but finished getting dressed in silence.

"Vega," Shaad called as Raine gathered her bag, and before Shaad had even turned back around from checking the guards' progress, the masked fighter was already standing in the doorway. ". . . You know, sometimes I wish you didn't do that," Shaad remarked after a steadying breath.

Going across the hall, the trio dropped from the second floor window into the alley. The guards weren't being very thorough to leave the alleyway open. Just as Shaad thought that, he heard a door get kicked open and a dozen soldiers poured out of the building two doors down. Raine and Vega were already around a corner, though, and Shaad quickly ducked out of sight and followed suit.

"Run on my mark. Ready?"

Not waiting for a reply, Shaad jumped from between the buildings into the middle of the street.

"Looking for me, I take it," he yelled just as the wood of the front door next door splintered under the weight of a particularly effective kick. "Come on. I'm waiting."

Raine mumbled a curse before jetting behind Shaad and down the street.

 **"Boost."** Shaad pushed off the ground in an instant, charging the squad of soldiers head on. They braced to receive him, but Shaad skidded to a stop, kicking up a mass of dirt and exploding in the opposite direction behind a cloud of dust.

"What was that," Raine demanded when he caught up.

"I promised the old barkeep I wouldn't endanger him or the bar."

The squad captain Shaad fought in the forest stormed through the waning dust, coughing heavily as he leveled his pistol at the group, taking aim at Vega who was bringing up the rear. The gunshot rang out in the dusky air. The aim was perfect, but the bullet never came close. Hearing the shot, Shaad glanced back. He spotted the feisty redheaded daughter smiling in their direction, her back pressed low against the wide open door of the bar.

"That was close."

What did you mean by 'you knew it', earlier?"

"Later."

Outside of the gated city, the town was packed with narrow streets. The three pirates stayed ahead of their pursuers with ease. As morning traffic began to trickle onto the streets, they were forced to slow down, but hiding was made easier. However, more guards had been dispatched than Shaad would've projected, and like a flood, they thundered in from every direction as the group reached the outskirts of town, pushing aside civilians with little care. There had to be over a hundred in total and Shaad's group held little prospect of escaping cleanly as more interceded from connecting pathways along the scarcely populated area. Buildings in ruins and discarded scrap piled high in dozens of large mounds made navigation difficult even without the cramped lodgings and people.

"Raine, find us a boat. Vega, cover her."

"What? What happened to the one we came here on?"

"Damaged."

"And, when were you gonna tell me?"

"No time," Shaad said, just avoiding getting hit by a bullet that nicked his sheath. "Now, go."

"What about you?"

Their pursuers gaining ground, shots flew all around. Barely swerving past a small detachment from the right, the group cut behind a hill which turned out to just be an extra-large pile of junk. Jumping and turning without stopping, Shaad acted quickly. A swift stroke of his swords sent the massive heap tumbling over. That would slow the guards down at least a little.

"Don't wait up." Shaad lunged away from Raine and Vega, making sure to be seen, and bounded off in the opposite direction.

It was a good plan, if not childishly simple: distract and lure the guards in one direction so his allies had an unobstructed path. The guards weren't so stupid, though. While the majority followed Shaad, it didn't go unnoticed by others that Raine and Vega were unseen.

Doubling back into the city, Shaad boosted his speed and reflexes, and weaved through the mass of people like a shifting breeze. Criminals weren't an anomaly in this part of town. The people acted strangely used to it, parting for the police, but not paying the cause any extended mind. It didn't take long to put a good deal of distance between him and his pursuers, slipping into a narrow gap between two buildings. There was just enough space to stand sideways, but that didn't matter. Shaad just needed a minute to catch his breath.

The shadows provided enough cover that his presence wasn't obvious, and no one ever looked into alleys. No one except kids, that is. Damn kids, bored and looking around while their parents dragged them from place to place. It was the conversation that made him look, nearby and unmoving. What he saw was a little girl holding her mother's hand and looking directly at him. It hadn't crossed his mind how suspicious he might look hiding in an alley until the little girl's gaze shifted from him to behind her and back a few times. The city's guards and police force were still a ways back, but Shaad could hear them closing fast.

Shaad knew mischief when he saw it, and that little girl was rotten to the core. From the slow spreading smile that first gave it away to the twinkle in her eyes like she'd just discovered a new game, this girl was obviously trouble. With her mother deep in conversation, she held out a hand, palm up. She wanted something for her silence. But, Shaad didn't know what nor did he have anything to give her anyway. When she checked behind her again, Shaad began to silently plead with her. The guards had slowed. They'd lost sight of him, and suspected he might try to hide. The girls smile spread even further in the face of Shaad's pleas.

Pointing a finger at the culprit, a high pitched squeal acted as the beacon. The girl's mother, shocked by the scream, looked down then into the shadows.

"Shit." The alarm was in full force, now. Taking one final deep breath, Shaad cleared nearly three stories jumping to the rooftops in a single leap.

Watching the guards chase him from the streets, Shaad was out of their reach but unable to get away because of the poor workmanship prevalent in this part of town. Anytime he pushed too hard, it felt like his foot might plow straight through the roof below. Unable to escape, he was hounded by gunfire. Judging by the errant shots, none of these guards were winning a marksmanship competition anytime soon, but all it took was one lucky shot. That shot came as Shaad readied to leap onto a clear path with a line towards the coast just skirting the forest treeline. The round ripped into his side, losing momentum on his sword sheath before getting lodged in his toned muscle. The impact and sudden pain caused Shaad to stumble and tumble instead of lift off.

 _Crash_. Shaad groaned as he lifted himself to a sitting position, brushing the broken wood off of himself. Instinctively taking in his surroundings, his eyes stopped on a shapely woman in a bathtub. Stunned into silence, she sat bolt upright, trying, and failing, to cover her ample bosom as Shaad stood up.

"What was that!?" Pounding footsteps turned to primal rage as the door was flung open and a large built man stood in the doorway. Barging into the bathroom, the man was swiftly tripped up.

"Go to sleep," Shaad implored with an annoyed sigh, slamming the man's face into the bathtub rim, letting his unconscious form fall to the floor with his face painted in fresh blood. "Um, that smells good. Is that lavender?" The woman just nodded. "Mind if I take it?" Shaad spoke casually despite the situation. Receiving no answer, Shaad just shrugged, grabbed the bottle and turned away, rummaging through the contents of the destroyed wall cabinet. "Thanks for being so understanding. I'll be out of your hair shortly." Grabbing some tweezers, matches, gauze, and alcohol, Shaad tossed the items into a pouch he spotted in the debris and tied it to his belt.

The guards were right outside. Shaad heard as the front door was essentially blown off its hinges. "No respect for personal property," he mumbled. "Sorry about this." With a salute of acknowledgement to the still in shock woman, Shaad knocked a new hole into the wall and exploded into a sprint along the street, blowing by confused and clamoring passerby.

Shaad couldn't move as fast as before, and he was being surrounded as reinforcements fast approached from up ahead, including one of the mammoth of men he'd seen when he first entered the gated city in the middle of the sprawling town. Until now, he'd only been running, but to make it further, he'd have to fight.

"I think it's time I introduced myself," Shaad muttered, a smirk forming as he drew both his swords. Blades held tightly in a reverse grip and crossed in front of him, Shaad launched himself high into the air and into the approaching enemy. As he readied to attack, though, a shooting pain froze him in midair, his swords only good for lessening the crushing blow from the half-giant's monstrous club swing before he was sent careening through the air.

"Nowhere to run!"

Shaad cracked an eye open from his meditation, standing and loosening his joints as he watched the waves of guardsmen slowly approach and encircle him on the isolated cliff edge. Taking a deep, tempering breath, he raised his swords in a traditional grip. As his eyes roved over the opposing force, a smirk crossed Shaad's lips upon spotting the marksman captain from the forest striding towards the front with definite purpose.

"And, nowhere to hide," Shaad called, his gaze emanating an immeasurable focus.

There was a moment of tense silence before a symphony of shots whistled their way towards Shaad. Not moving an inch, the young captain expertly avoided being hit, his blades disappearing into glimpses of flashing steel amid the onslaught.

 **"Weight of Sin!"** With a heavy-handed cross swing of both blades, Shaad created a downward spiraling gust to crush the second wave of bullets like the torrent from a waterfall.

 **"Reaper's Retribution!"** Flowing the first attack into parallel horizontal swipes, the enemy could only watch as their front line fell to an unseen assault, matching gashes slicing across their chest despite the almost 20 yards of empty space between them and Shaad.

"How bout we stop playing around? You'll never hit me with gunshots from this range."

As if answering the challenge, the first few rows of men charged forward. Shaad held his arms out wide, a serene expression on his face as if basking in the approaching horde. Opening his eyes just as the first one came into range - **"Death's Door."** \- he sailed effortlessly through the rank of men, a deadly phantom wind. **"Outreach of the Unforgiving."**

Not wanting to give Shaad even a moment's rest, dozens more flooded the limited space still between the two sides while their comrades crumpled to the ground behind him. Stepping through, Shaad sliced the torso of the first two, immediately bringing his swords around to block and counter an overhead swing from a third enemy.

Shaad moved with blinding speed and struck with exceptional accuracy, opponents falling around him with each expert stroke of his blades. Booting an impaled enemy off his blade, he spring boarded over another coming from behind him, the failed attack effort met with a swift beheading. Jumping, Shaad kicked the dismembered head off the man's shoulders and into the arms of a group to his right, bringing the same leg back for a heel kick. On the ground, the tip of Shaad's blade soon replaced his leg on the victim's throat.

Flipping the sword back to a traditional grip, Shaad scanned the hesitant remainder crowded around him.

"Who's next?"

The men were scared, but prideful and duty bound. Shaad didn't have the time to wait for their decision, so he decided for them. Dashing to his left, an upward stroke immediately downed the first man Shaad contacted. Kicking the body back into others, he chained together a split kick. A foot each at the neck of two different men, Shaad had a bit of breathing room for the moment. But, the move also put him above the mass, a couple of fast thinking guards quickly taking aim with their pistols. Before either could pull the trigger, though, metal-tipped toothpicks had pierced each of their skulls, killing them instantly.

Having stabbed his footholds before they could remove him, Shaad dismounted, delivering a devastating roundhouse before landing, swords on the ground but ready to continue the fight unarmed.

 **"Boost X3."**

In a flurry of kicks and punches, Shaad broke bones and dazed foes, drowning his adversaries under a storm of heavy strikes. As one would fall, two more would join in the fray, but eventually Shaad's grit and power dammed the constant flood of bodies that poured forth. Fresh blood dripping from his knuckles, Shaad's breathing hitched briefly before a clubbing backhand disoriented him.

The perpetrator, a seasoned veteran of all types of fights, battles, and wars, tried to follow up despite his purpling, disjointed arm hanging limp. But, Shaad was too quick. A single straight snapped forward. The sound of bones creaking and cracking resonated as blood splattered across the ground. There would be no giving up, however. Ducking under an errant haymaker attempt, Shaad hooked an arm under the elder warrior's chin, trapping his arm and cinching the hold in one smooth motion.

As if parading a demonstration of the fate awaiting any who opposed him, Shaad held the helpless, struggling fighter like that as he met the contemptuous glares of each commander and fortunate soldier still standing back. The scene was a sad end for a good man, but a comparatively tame conclusion to a bloody and visceral battle. Attention rapt, everyone could only look on as the sound of a man's neck being snapped filled their ears and the last spasming trickle of a once mighty flood ceased to drip at all.

"Amateur hour's over. Now, I ask again: Who's next?"

Shaad's tone was even and unfeeling, his steely gaze matched only by his rigid demeanor. There was no fear or weakness as he stared down the eight squad commanders and the dozen or so soldiers left standing before him. Instead, he shrugged off their presence, turning his back to them on his way to picking up his swords and returning to the spot he sat when they found him here.

Finally, as he watched the lapping waves crash below, Shaad heard the click of two firearms. The commander Shaad had previously fought held two pistols trained squarely on the back of his skull.

"Hold still or you'll lay still; you're under arrest."

Shaad responded with no words, one raised finger, and a very clear statement. Two shots fired. One body fell. And, a prolonged and deadly pursuit was finally over.


	35. Tremors

**Tremors:**

 **Cracks in the Fragile Peace**

Early on in the dangerous waters of the Grand Line there resided a quaint, isolated island. Lush forests covered most of the island, separating it into four peaceful little towns. There, on a hill just outside the smallest of towns, a young man stretched his arms to the sky as he walked out of his house, grumbling to himself.

"Aah, another boring day. I wish I could leave this stupid island once and for all."

Wiping his eyes to get rid of the sleep, he looked to the sky and noticed it was already past noon. Hearing his stomach growl, though, he turned around to go back inside.

'I'll go out later, it won't rain again until tonight at the earliest anyway.'

After eating a small, makeshift meal, the boy got dressed in casual dark pants and a plain white button up with the top buttons undone, exposing a toned chest despite his slim physique, leaving his home to run errands after making himself something to eat. He was in need of more food, some building materials, and tools to fix up damage that had recently been done to his house. So, to that end, he headed to his favorite shop in town. The shop was run by a friendly older man who was quite burly with a large gut and a bushy beard, and sold practically everything... except food, building materials, and tools.

"Oh, hey Isaac. Whatcha lookin for," the owner asked with a wide smile.

"Got anything new, Mr. Glass?"

Mr. Glass pulled out a large sack from under the counter and poured the contents onto a tarp he'd placed down. Isaac looked through the contents and picked out a few maps and some books. He briefly picked up an ornate staff and a golden, decorative katana, but had no interest in either item and placed them back. After scanning over the items one last time, he looked back to Mr. Glass with hopeful, expectant eyes. Some of this stuff was nice, but he wanted something more.

"Can I check out what's downstairs?"

"I've told you before, the downstairs showroom is only for adults," Mr. Glass scolded.

"Ah, come on. I turn eighteen in a month. Besides, I've lived on my own now for four years." Still getting an uncertain look from the shop owner, Isaac opted for a different approach: puppy dog eyes. "Pweease," he begged in his most pathetic tone.

Finally relenting, more so to stop the nearly grown young man from making such an awkward scene in his shop, the owner grabbed a key and led the young man down a flight of stairs to a hidden showroom before heading back up to run his business. This showroom was filled with things he could no longer sell upstairs for fear of confiscation and punishment- mostly weapons- and some miscellaneous items that he was unsure of what they did. Isaac looked around in wonder, stars in his eyes, at the myriad of swords, tonfa, and the assortment of other bladed and melee weaponry. It had been almost a decade since he'd last seen real guns and swords up close without being threatened by someone using them. The house he lived in used to be filled with them thanks to his dad being a Marine and an avid weapons collector. Seeing how passionate his dad was made him want to learn about weapons too, but he never got as into it as his dad. Though, since he was a rather small and weak child, he did have quite the affinity for the claymore and its size and strength. All of the weapons, and the memories they held, were taken from him, though, when a group of pirates came and made the island their base. The first thing they did was make sure to get rid of anything that could aid a potential rebellion. For the other villager's safety, Isaac's dad held back initially and waited until an opportune time arose to defeat the pirate captain and retake the island. Unfortunately for him, when that moment came, just as he was about to deal the finishing blow, an underhanded maneuver resulted in his death: he'd been shot in the back by a corrupt marine. In fact, it was his superior officer from the nearby Marine base. For that reason, the villagers were trapped in this situation and Isaac had trained in secret nearly every day for the past few years, on top of the training his dad put him through, in order to defeat that pirate and the head of the Marine base.

"How much for these, Mr. Glass," he asked when the old shopkeeper descended the stairs again, the main store now empty for the moment.

Isaac had broken out of his reverie and settled on one sword in particular. It was a giant claymore, nearly as tall as he was. Aside from that, he was holding what looked like an ornamental glass ball and a collection of linked chains.

"Hey put that down; you don't even know what those are."

"A sword, some chains, and a cool ball."

The owner sweat dropped at Isaac's simplicity, but decided to explain.

"See that sword you're holding?"

"Yea, it's a claymore, just like I like."

Dumbfounded, Mr. Glass pointed out, "No, I mean the design. The guard is sculpted like two bones and the pommel is shaped like a skull with ruby eyes."

"Hmm, I hadn't noticed; that is cool," Isaac replied simply.

The shop owner fell to the floor in utter disbelief. Picking himself up, he explained it as clearly as he could.

"There are rumors surrounding that sword that whoever wields it gains great power but does so at the risk of their soul. Everyone who's ever wielded it has met a gruesome end."

Isaac didn't pay any attention after 'power' and was instead busy examining the skull at the pommel. Not hearing the old man's voice in the background anymore, he lifted his head.

"So, it's magical," Isaac fawned with stars in his eyes.

"No, you idiot. It's cursed."

The young man looked at him with a blank expression and spoke.

"I don't believe in curses," came the monotone reply.

That was it, the last straw. The shop owner just held his head, shaking it as he muttered 'I knew you'd get yourself killed one day. You're suicidal just like your dad.' He did refocus on the other objects though.

"Do you even know how to use those other items?"

"It's a ball and some chains. What's to know?"

'Idiot. Pure idiot,' Mr. Glass muttered to himself. "Those chains are a pair of chain link gloves. You use these rings here to put them on your hands and put this part around your wrists. The rest goes up your arm and hooks up by your shoulder.

"Wow, this is co~ol. So, what about this?"

"That... uh, I actually don't know what that is. . . But if you're interested in it, I'm sure it's no good."

Isaac didn't pay any mind to the subtle dig. "So. . . how much?"

"Half a million beli should cover it. . . plus my pain and suffering."

Mr. Glass was proud of himself for having figured out a way to keep the young man from leaving with such dangerous weapons. Everyone in town knew Isaac was often flat broke, and what little money he did get, he spent at Mr. Glass' store just as soon as he got it. So, his jaw understandably dropped when Isaac lifted up an overfilled, bulging backpack and placed it on the counter.

"Is this enough?"

"I- I- I," the shopkeeper stammered, his mouth slack upon opening the backpack and seeing it filled to the brim with bills and gold coins. It took some time to count the bag's total contents, and Mr. Glass' jaw had dropped again as he finished counting out the last few bills.

"6- 600,000 beli. Where did you get this much money?"

The young man had a gleam in his eye and a mischievous smirk as responded, but that was quickly replaced by the same dumb expression as before. "Everyone in town knows better than to ask how I get my money. . . But, that's enough, right?"

Mr. Glass was uneasy. He was right; there were some things they all knew it was better to just have plausible deniability on, especially concerning Isaac. That's the reason no one ever questioned him about his money, where he went on some days, or any noise that came from the direction of his house – up the hill past the town – at night; it was widely known Isaac wasn't as stupid as he pretended to be. But, there were some things he was entirely clueless about: money being one of those. He knew you needed money to buy stuff, but that was the end of it; he didn't know numbers for the world of him. So, Mr. Glass just went ahead and completed his business with no other excuse to keep Isaac from buying the goods he wanted.

"Y- Yeah; this is just enough. You're lucky I'm a nice guy, now move along and take your stuff with you. But, be sure not to get caught you baka!"

Isaac noticed the almost imperceptible grin fighting to show on the shop owner's face as he took the money, but ignored it. Instead, he gathered up the things he'd bought and wrapped them in a sheet before stuffing them, at least majority, in his backpack and turning to leave the store.

With a wave, he walked out of the store. He was going to head home, despite not getting anything he came to town for, to drop off the things he was carrying and then come back for the rest, mainly food; he was already hungry again and only had scraps left at the house to eat. Before he'd gotten far away from the shop, he heard some noise off near the center of town. It sounded like someone getting beat up.

Isaac ran to where he heard the noise coming from, the stuff he'd bought still on his back. With his speed, it didn't take long to get there, but once there, he was shocked by the scene before him. Instead of citizens being attacked, it was the citizens doing the attacking. Five men from the village had a single individual surrounded on the ground and were beating the crap out of him with two by fours as well as their bare hands.

Isaac couldn't believe his eyes, but he knew something wasn't right. The villagers weren't brave or strong enough to take on any of the pirates that ruled the island, and few of those pirates were bold enough to travel alone. Not wasting any more time trying to figure it out, Isaac jumped in the middle of the fray and yelled out.

"St~op!"

The villagers were visibly tense and didn't appreciate Isaac getting in their way, but they had nothing personal against him.

"Move out of the way, Isaac. This doesn't concern you," one of the men shouted.

"Hold on, why are you doing this?"

"This bastard came sailing in here just now flying a Jolly Roger," another of the mob yelled.

"We've been through too much to just let another pirate waltz in here and destroy everything we have left." Excuses erupted from the crowd, each one further emboldening the already raucous mob.

"So, the five of you assault one person who's not even involved in all this? Real brave."

The villagers didn't take well to being spoken down to or Isaac's sarcasm, and they would have let it be known if a knife he was keeping in his bag hadn't cut through the bottom and fallen out... along with everything else inside, including the six foot long claymore, which landed with a noticeable clang on the ground before rolling out of its light wrapping. Seeing the large sword caused everyone to take a step back. They knew they couldn't beat Isaac anyway, but that sword just drew too much attention. Reluctantly, they all dispersed and went their separate ways, each of them mumbling and grumbling beneath his breath.

Meanwhile, the person being beat up was a fit young man, with his lean, muscular physique on full display since he wasn't wearing a shirt, only a pair of low cut black jeans and a silver cross necklace to go along with the bloodied bandages wrapping his hands and the ragged black boots on his feet. He was looking up Isaac's chiseled back to the neck long, messy white hair as the village orphan convinced the others to leave him alone before turning around with a soft smile as he crouched down.

"You okay," Issac asked with concern.

"Yea; I- I'm fine."

Though his words said one thing, the slight strain in his voice as he got up indicated to the contrary.

"Come with me to my place; you can rest there for a bit. It's getting kind of late anyway." Isaac offered rather abruptly as he got up and gathered his belongings. The tone of his voice making his words more a command than a request.

"I don't need any help," the stubborn stranger refused nonetheless. But his words were overruled by his stomach.

"Then how bout food," Isaac offered with a smile, the deep, prolonged growl of the young man's stomach too loud to be ignored. "I can fix you something at my house."

"I'll kill something in the woods," came the flippant reply

Isaac just shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Well, if I can't change your mind. . ."

A few minutes later, Isaac was strolling peacefully back to his house, whistling a tune, with his belongings on his back and. . . the stranger, tied up with chains, being dragged along behind him with lumps on his head and spirals in his eyes.

It didn't take too long for Isaac to get back home, even with his extra 'luggage'. Bringing everything inside, Isaac dropped the stranger just inside the door, unchained him, and went to put up his stuff. He then came back a couple of minutes later with a pot of steaming hot water and dumped it on his now sleeping guest just as a large snot bubble popped, causing him to immediately jump up frantically screaming and desperately fanning himself.

"Aaah; hot, hot, hot! What the hell was that!?"

"You were letting yourself get beat up by the villagers; I had to make sure you don't just enjoy pain."

"Oh, so I should've gone ahead and pummeled 'em," the pirate questioned rhetorically.

Isaac didn't pay any attention to the stranger's sarcastic remark or the equally ludicrous smirk he had, opting to ask a question of his own instead as he went back into the kitchen to make a quick meal.

"So, what's your name, anyway? I don't like giving food to strangers."

"But, you'll give food to pirates?"

"I don't judge people by their titles, Sadist."

"Ah, that's goo- Hey, don't just go giving people nicknames." It took a few seconds for the impromptu name to sink in as the stranger nodded approval for Isaac's life view, but Isaac merely shrugged. "Ugh! My name's K'ron by the way."

"Kron?"

"No, K'ron. It's pronounced Kay Ron, baka.

"That's no way to speak to someone being hospitable and extending a helping hand. Have you no home training," Isaac scolded.

K'ron didn't respond, and Isaac didn't much care either way as he'd finished making something to eat. He handed a bowl of it to his guest, earning a look of distaste and skepticism from the lone pirate.

"What kind of. . . _soup(?_ ). . . is this?"

"It's meatloaf."

K'ron looked questioningly at the bowl of ground beef chunks and vegetables in what looked more like a broth than a tomato based topping. It didn't look appealing in the least to him and he briefly wondered if it may be poisoned, but was broken out of his thoughts by Isaac's voice.

"I'm not a chef, but if you're not going to eat it, then put it down and lie back. I need to check the injuries you may have gotten from the villagers."

"I don't need any first aid; those villagers couldn't hurt me."

"Hmph! That's funny since you clearly have at least a bruised rib." Isaac pointed to K'ron's left ribs where a purplish bruise was forming, but the pirate just scoffed.

"Oh, so you're a doctor now. Besides, you caused that yourself."

"Um, no. . . and no. I'm not a doctor, and I didn't cause that rib injury. But, if you don't want any treatment then just lay there for the night; it could be dangerous to be outside in another hour or two. I'm going to go buy some food."

"N-no, I ain't eating that slop," K'ron loudly declared in a flustered panic. "I'd rather have a Devil's Fruit. At least its nastiness has a point, unlike your cra- a- ah!"

K'ron's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fell unconscious from a solid uppercut directly to his already bruised rib. Isaac then muttered, 'no manners' before turning to leave, but not before saying a few words to his knocked out guest.

"Now, that was me. But, seriously I need food for myself or else I won't have anything to eat tomorrow."

K'ron released a muddled groan in his sorry state, lying flat on the ground, face down. Isaac accepted that as an OK and headed out into the open air with a smile on his face. For the second time that day, he once again went into town for the express purpose of getting food, but unlike last time, he did not let himself get distracted. Also unlike last time, this time he was completely without money, having spent it all at Mr. Glass's shop. Knowing what that meant, but not letting it deter him, Isaac went to the food stand of his favorite merchant. Favorite for the sole reason that he could usually get some free food from him.

"Hey, Mr. Toosan. How's your day been?"

"No," came a curt, gruff response."

"Huh; no what?"

"I'm not giving you any food."

"Whaa? Please; pwetty pweease with a cherry on top," Isaac begged, his faced long and eyes wideand expectant.

The merchant, though, was unmoved by Isaac's attempt to sway him with puppy dog eyes, and remained stern.

"Not unless you got some money this time."

"Aah, come on. Can't I pay you later?"

"You still owe me from the last three times, you good-for-nothing!"

Isaac backed up a bit at the shopkeeper's angry tone, and violently shaking fist above his head, before nervously responding.

Isaac: N-Now, there's n-no need for name calling.

But the shopkeeper just continued to fiercely glare at Isaac.

"Can't I at least get the stuff that's going bad since you were going to throw it out anyway," Isaac suggested.

There was a silence at that moment, but at least Mr. Toosan's expression softened somewhat. That gave Isaac more confidence.

"Please... I know you haven't thrown them out yet. I just need something to eat."

Mr. Toosan looked to have finally relented as he gathered up different ingredients in a bag and shoved the bag into Isaac's arms.

"Here, ya little brat."

"Really," Isaac exclaimed, disbelief evident in his voice as he clutched the bag with both arms."

"My wife would kill me if I let a brat like you go hungry or eat expired food."

"Well, thanks ojiisan."

The shopkeeper stifled back a growl at being called old before pulling out a box from under the counter and handing it to Isaac.

"My wife also wanted me to give you this. And, she's still wondering if you'll come over for dinner again sometime soon."

"Oooh, molten chocolate lava cake with strawberries and whipped cream in a pool of vanilla cream on top, my favorite."

Isaac swiftly closed the box as a pool of drool formed at his feet over the mouthwatering cake before him. Chocolate was his favorite and he'd swear Mrs. Toosan made the best desserts in all of the Grand Line. He used his sleeve to wipe the remaining drool from his mouth as he finally regained control of his salivary glands and ran off with the box tucked under one arm while waving back to Mr. Toosan. "Tell Mrs. Toosan, I'll definitely be by for dinner sometime soon."

"I'll tell her. Hurry home; it's almost nightfall and you don't need to be out past curfew... And, don't forget to have money next time, this is the last time you'll get something free," Mr. Toosan yelled after him.

Isaac just smiled as he ran home, the food in a sack over his shoulder and the cake under his other arm. Mr. Toosan always said that, so he knew it wasn't true. Still though, he always fully intended to pay, he just never had money left for some reason that he didn't understand. He did agree, though, that he needed to get home fast; it would be troublesome if he was caught outside past curfew.

As he kept jogging home, making sure to keep a good pace without shaking the cake too violently. He'd just left the village and his house was just over the horizon about a mile and a half out when he accidentally crashed into something in front of him, making him drop what he was carrying. Looking up, he saw three towering figures, each carrying a weapon: a double sided axe, a cutlass, and a mace, respectively. They all looked pissed as Isaac had caused the center one to drop the rack of meat he'd been eating. The axe wielding man on the right stepped forward and sent Isaac flying into a nearby tree with a bone crunching kick to the midsection, causing the tree to crack from the impact. Isaac rested an arm on his stomach as he positioned himself to lean against the tree before briefly flashing a half-hearted smirk at his attackers while the trio let loose a round of raucous laughter.


	36. Reset

**A Welcome Reset**

The sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky. Birds fluttered overhead, singing a joyful tune. The light breeze provided comfort while a peaceful sway from the lapping waves eased away stress, a gentle caress coaxing the young captain back into the world of the living.

Shaad awoke gradually, finding comfort in the pillow that was Raine's supple thighs.

"We should probably stop meeting like this."

Shaad's voice was soft, his eyes closed as he settled into that space between sleep and awake.

"Yet you seem quite comfortable between my legs," Raine playfully responded. "What happened back there," she asked after a short pause.

Shaad opened his eyes. Staring up, he saw nothing. His mind somewhere else before his eyes again drifted closed. Resigning himself, Shaad muttered his reply. "I did something stupid.

The boat was quiet. Raine waited patiently, letting Shaad continue at his own pace. Vega, just a few feet away, seemed in a different world as he stared silently out ahead of them.

"In trying to avoid complication, I've only made everything worse."

"What are you talking about?"

Shaad's hands brushed through his hair, face scrunched in pensive deliberation before heaving a sigh and speaking in frustrated acceptance.

"I'm just trying to get home. . . Trying to placate Uncle, I fall out with city guards. A higher bounty brings more problems, so I try to avoid conflict. Cause of that, I end up cornered. I was prepared to hold them back, but I would've been killed playing defense. What took so long?"

"We had our own issues."

Noting the fresh scars on Vega's back and arms, Shaad gave a dry scoff at Raine's downplaying their obvious troubles. "Whatever. It's my fault y'all are caught up in this shit, anyway; I should've figured out what was going on sooner.

Gently stroking her palm through his hair, Raine's voice was soft, reassuring. "We're all here because, whether it was the Marines, BMF, or Sangre, you took what you wanted without worrying about the repercussions. Ever since Morrigan came to you with a job from your 'uncle', you've been stuck playing catch-up and trying to figure out what other people were aiming for. Just do you; when shit comes back, we'll handle it together."

"No regrets," Shaad mumbled. Raine then repeated the words, but with more conviction, as Shaad sat up. "You ever heard of this place called Gold Peak," he asked firmly.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Can you get us there?" Raine nodded her affirmation cautiously, still wondering as to the destination of this line of questions. "The bartender said the royal family's ship sailed from there. We're gonna use those tickets you got off what's his face to catch a ride."

"I thought we were through chasing ghosts?"

"We are. This is for us. We still need a way into the Grand Line as well as money for a ship. You and Vega don't mind collecting donations, right?" Raine smiled at Shaad's question, the quickest route to Gold Peak already being determined in her mind.

* * *

The trip was peaceful. With Shaad's new old attitude, he and Raine again interacted with a playful attraction that often seemed more than it was. For whatever reason, the two just got along better when they were both a bit selfish as opposed to Shaad trying to plan ahead and protect everyone. And, with Raine enjoying the calm skies and smooth sailing, Shaad slept. For almost three full days, the only sound heard from the captain was the occasional light snoring. Raine navigated. Vega steered. And, they all proceeded along smoothly.

On the fourth day, Shaad's breath was smothered, both his lower face covered by a secure barrier.

"I'm awake," the young captain spoke in annoyed fashion as he removed Raine's hands from his mouth and nostrils.

"If you're awake, then why haven't you gotten up."

"Because I like it here," Shaad answered, rolling his head in her lap and nuzzling into Raine's taut tummy with a smile.

"Oh, really?"

It didn't take long for Shaad's view to change as Raine held his head in place, curling over him to completely cut off air and circulation. In seconds, Shaad was flailing and tapping out, greedily gulping in air when Raine loosened her hold, mock disappointment showing in her pursed, pouty lips.

"Hmm; I thought you liked it down there? You're in such great position, I'm sure you can do better. What do you say?"

Raine's tone was sultry and teasing, her voice silk to his ears. But, he could see the toying glint in her seductive stare. Shaad really thought himself a glutton for punishment knowingly inviting this side of her. He did all he could, scrambling away - and almost over the edge - as he steadied his breathing.

"No; I say no," Shaad declared desperately. "Now, why'd you wake me?"

Raine's pout deepened as she crossed her arms like a child, the intentional squeeze of her substantial bust anything but child-like. "Look at this."

Shaad stared dubiously at the proffered newspaper. Reading tediously, his eyes went wide. "What!?"

"Good; I was afraid you couldn't read for a moment."

Shaad's surprise overrode his annoyance, exclaiming, "Impel Down was broken into again on the same day the 'Titan' departed the Marines? What's going on in the world?"

"Huh? No, not that. This," Raine stressed, pointing to an indistinct blurb in the corner of the front page. The accompanying picture of five robed individuals standing confidently was awe-inspiring, but the content seemed secondary or even tertiary to the shifts in the spheres of power occurring.

"So what," Shaad asked tersely, his patience, fresh off being rudely awakened and suffocated, wearing thin.

"That's an announcement for the largest fighting tournament this side of the New World, the Twin Dragons Prize Fight Tournament."

Shaad replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Raine got the message and elaborated.

"It's organized by the Dragon Clan - I'm sure even you've heard of them - and open to anyone with a bounty less than 100 million beli. The prize is an uninspired 100 Mil, but when they open up the qualifications like this year, it's a sign they got something special in store."

"Open, how?" Shaad's question was more than a little distrustful, and the nefarious smirk she wore did little to change his perception.

"They raised the max bar to 250; no big deal," Raine answered with a dismissive wave.

"I'm sure those are the words of someone who won't be fighting?"

"None of us will. You just need to enter while I solicit donations and other good will gifts. That's your plan for us anyway, isn't it?"

 _Mhmm_. Shaad could only manage a dubious scoff. He had indeed heard of the Dragon Clan. Rumored to be of noble birth in the same vain of Germa 66, they had reigned over all of West Blue for decades, rising to global prominence in the wake of the second Pirate King on the backs of the collective military prowess and martial might of their leaders. That stranglehold was lost, though, a few years back when the massive land holding they claimed as their home was all but destroyed, leaving only the spot where they engineered their final push - the current spot of the Colosseum the tournament was held at.

Shaad was no fan of the idea, but she was right. He wanted to take from nobles; she wanted to take from warrior nobles. The only difference was her idea eliminated the middle men of who might kill them.

"Gold Peak first," Shaad demanded. "Piss off the Marines, little changes. Anger the Five Dragons, hope they don't see you as priority."

Shaad suspected that's what Raine intended anyways from her reaction. "Not a problem," she announced with a wide smile and a cheery bounce. "The path from Gold Peak crosses La Isla del Drago. Bunch of pompous, rich asshats can't resist watching the less fortunate pummel one another for their amusement."

"Let me get this straight. We catch a ride from Gold Peak to the tournament with the nobles. I'm assuming we collect from all parties at that juncture. And, get away before any are the wiser with the benefit of a shitload of other suspects. . . I like it. So, how much time till we reach Gold Peak?"

"Less with that," Raine answered, looking over Shaad's shoulder.

It was then, the young captain finally realized their small boat was completely still. "Wha- How-," he stammered out in surprise. "Aah, forget it. Don't tell me that thing's actually thinking of trying to eat us," Shaad complained, looking into one of the piranha-faced creature's large eyes as it treaded water just a few feet ahead.

"Okay." The statement, joined by an unconcerned shrug, did nothing to ease Shaad's concerns, instead justifying them by Raine's tone.

Shaad merely sighed as he again looked over his shoulder. Well somebody take care of it. I'm not fighting a sea king from this little thing."

"It's just a big fish, a really big fish."

"And, this is still just a small boat. Ve- Really," was all he could manage looking at the masked fighter performing one handed vertical push-ups without a care. "Well then, guess that leaves you."

"Useless," Raine muttered as she dashed across the boat in the blink of an eye and whapped the animal over the head just as it opened its mouth to feed.

Angered, the piranha charged forward, but was sent flying overhead by a timely rising wave, revealing its eel-like body. The boat was severely rocked as the big fish crashed back into the water and spun around, its tail whipping madly behind it. Raine awaited its fury with open arms and baton extended.

* * *

Bumps and bruises covering its surface, the monstrous piranha pathetically sulked in the water with one eye swollen. Raine stood akimbo across from it, the rope she'd just tied around the animal's neck in her grasp.

"Now, are you ready to do as I say?"

Tugging on the rope to command compliance, Raine sat down. Shaad made to rest his head in her lap, but was pushed aside. "My legs are still tired from holding up yo big head earlier. You can massage 'em, but I'm done."

"But, this wood's too hard for a good nap. How am I s'posed to regain my strength?"

"You can sleep in the fish's mouth for all I care."

"I just might," Shaad replied defiantly, more for the sake of argument than an actual intention.

With a lead animal pulling the small, single sail boat, the crew arrived, under a sunlit sky with clouds dotting the horizon, in little over a week. The giant fish waded in shallow waters, allowing Vega to pull the boat onto the immaculate, golden coast. Raine hopped out with an annoyed expression and walked around to the subdued piranha.

Kicking it hard in the side, she impatiently yelled for Shaad, tapping her foot in time with the passing seconds. After a couple minutes, the fish first looked uncomfortable then outright in pain before settling back down to merely uncomfortable. It appeared as if something inside its mouth were trying to force an escape for a few fleeting seconds before the piranha relented and opened its large maw, rows of sharp teeth lining the dark, slimy, and nasty entranceway.

From those depths, a putrid stench poured forth followed by a lean figure, ambling forward as if rising from the ashes. _Drip, drop_. Emerging from the darkness, the figure stood poised, covered in a slimy, sticky goop. As it drew closer, a familiar set of heterochromatic eyes stared back at Raine, a striking fire burning within.

"Ugh; you smell like shit," Raine commented, her face scrunched as she took a couple steps back and away from the smell.

Shaad's expression broke into a scowl. "Damn fish swallowed me. Any longer, and I would've cut my way out of its stomach."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to find a bath house and a spa. You need to find a great lake and a volcano."

Even through the thick, viscous layer of intestinal fluid and fish spit, the shifting scowl and raised eyebrow were clear. "Burn those clothes. Burn it all. Then wash that putrid smell off."

"Yes, mother," Shaad answered with an irritated roll of his eyes. "But, first-"

In a flash, Shaad's blades were drawn and the fish, mouth still held open, had been sliced open along the inside. Shaad stood there, a serious aura about him, with one sword held up, keeping the monster's drooping maw held open for a moment longer before stepping out, a layer of fresh blood on top of the weeks old stomach contents.

Raine just shook her head. "My poor toys. Always getting broken."

"My poor clothes," Shaad countered, the curt statement easily containing more emotion than Raine's monotone.

Gold Peak was aptly named. From the shimmering sand of the coast to the sparkling city high on a mountain in the center, the entire island had a glow that shone brightly under the midday sun. With lush forests abound and a beautiful coastline, the glorious, golden city in all its immaculate splendor truly lived up to its name.

Around the city, there was a relaxed clamoring and jovial chatter. Refined, well-hewn architecture was highlighted by a stunning mix of glitz and class that even Shaad had never been witness to. The people, all elegant and dressed to impress, fluttered to and fro with nary a care in the world.

* * *

' _Aah_. Oh wow. This. . . This is awesome. No wonder Raine's always so insistent about this type of thing,' Shaad reveled, head lolled back and mouth agape in a state of ecstasy. 'We're definitely getting one of these for the ship.' Reclining against the smooth stone edge, Shaad allowed himself to drift further into the steamy water. Moving through the water to sit under the small, man-made waterfall stream, Shaad let the warm water cascade over his bare muscles. Closing his eyes, he felt increasingly refreshed and replenished, the extravagantly lavish bath, and wide assortment of various perfumes at hand, doing wonders for both his smell as well as his depleted energy.

Sliding deeper into the water until only his nose and eyes remained visible, Shaad tuned out the world around him. The soft wrap of the rising steam. The melodious patter of falling water. The hypnotic effect of the gentle jet stream circulating underneath. And, the immersive bubbles building up. All of it coalesced into a single entity, seemingly washed away with his stress as he floated in a dream.

Undisturbed by the door opening across the room, Shaad's peaceful, serene dream continued unabated. It was the shot of cool air that had him shooting to his feet. Stark naked and dripping wet, Shaad's eyes met those of his visitor, a slender man of decent physique and approximately 30 years, shaken by nerves and scrambling for the sabre on his hip.

"Ya mind handin' me a towel," Shaad asked in an unconcerned, unmotivated tone.

"_"

Shaad cocked his head, an expectant eyebrow raised at the man's silence. That eyebrow only rose higher once he finally did get a response after a lengthy delay.

Quiet, scoundrel. . . I, Lord Arturio Braddock IV, renowned master swordsman, shall hereby mete out your just desserts, criminal."

"_"

"Ok~ay," Shaad half questioned while sizing up the apparent noble. "Well, thanks for bringing me some clothes."

Confusion barely had time to settle in before Shaad casually stepped out of the pool, his back to the flustered young lord. Spinning on his heels, Shaad again eyed the man with a quizzical expression even when faced with a solid fighting stance and a sword pointed towards him. Maybe, it was the massive bath still between them. Or, maybe. . .

"You're much too stiff. You'll only hurt yourself if you don't loosen up," Shaad advised. "Come on, relax," Shaad again coaxed when the man merely stared at him, an expression somewhere between anger and befuddlement.

"Qui-"

Just as the noble had decided how to feel about the awkward exchange, a gust flew by him. The man's eyes stayed glued on Shaad even as the pirate stood behind him. In that moment, a new feeling overcame the noble. His body fell; head twisted 180°. The noble died instantly of a snapped neck.


	37. What Do You Live For?

**What do you live for?**

"Don't you know it's past your curfew, runt?"

The three men were members of the pirate crew that had set up base on the island. Once the crew had secured control, they implemented a curfew of nightfall for all residents. Anyone caught outside past that time was subject to whatever punishment the pirate who caught them chose. Most were severely beaten just for laughs, though some were just flat out killed... or worse. A small number were allowed to run off on rare occasions, but these three obviously had at least a beating in mind as they approached, evil grins plastered on their faces.

"St~op! Just stop already, you pirates." Isaac waved his hands for them to stop as they moved closer in a semicircular formation, and let out a sigh of relief when they actually paused long enough to send him a questioning glare and let out a small laugh between them thinking he was just scared for his life.

"Hahahahaha! Listen to this coward, boys. He's probably already pissed his pants," the one in the middle boisterously laughed.

"This won't be any fun if he won't at least pretend to be tough. But, I guess he's just smart enough to realize he doesn't stand a chance of beating us," commented the one to his left.

Isaac didn't have a problem with them making fun of him, but there was something about people saying they could beat him that always set him off. However, this time he managed a bit more self-control than usual, stammering out, "No, I'm not scared; I just don't want him to step on that box," while pointing to pirate furthest right.

Isaac's gall apparently amused the apparent ringleader standing front and center, "Ha, it's seems this punk has got some nerve after all."

"Hmph; maybe he doesn't know it's past curfew. Either that or I don't think he understands what that means," mused the strongest target of Isaac's ire, a threatening timbre to his voice.

"What I don't know is who you think you are to give me a curfew. I'll go in when I want to."

The pirates glared at him and he realized how far he'd gone, instantly biting back his attitude and switching to the innocent tone of a scared child.

"Uh, I mean, please let me go. I'll run home right away."

"Oh, he thinks begging is going to help him now. It's too late for that."

"Wow, you truly are idiots," Isaac snapped before he could think better of it. "I mean, have mercy."

"What did you say, punk?"

"Is your head really so far up your boss' ass that you can't hear me?" Before Isaac could even attempt to redact that comment, the pirate on the right got fed up with his smart mouth.

"How bout you shut your pie hole, runt before I step on this precious box of yours and then we make you wish you'd continued pleading like the weakling you are," he growled, foot hovering over the dropped box.

"Mrs. Toosan's cake," Isaac yelled out as the pirate was about to set his foot down.

Upon hearing what was in the box, the pirate stopped his foot mid-motion, slamming it on the ground next to the box instead. He had a gluttonous look on his face as he then picked up the box, a line of drool dribbling down his stubbly chin as he gazed upon the mouthwatering cake, all the while Isaac was hurling insults and curses at him telling him to stop. One finally broke through just before his finger made contact with the top of the cake.

"If you lay a single fat finger on my cake, I'll make you choke on it, fatso."

Though the pirate had an almost fully exposed beer belly, he obviously took extreme offense to the fatso remark, casting a chilling look of disdain towards Isaac as he slowly, mockingly hovered his meaty finger over the sweet chocolate cake. He roughly ran his finger along the top of the cake before leading it to his mouth, but in time with his finger going into and coming out of the cake, the blade of a sword was simultaneously plunged through the center of his chest and just as roughly withdrawn, leaving the overweight pirate to drop the box with the cake still in it before he himself fell down right next to it. Isaac was relieved that at least part of the cake was still edible while the other two pirates were in shock at seeing their partner slain right next to them.

"Wha- Who dare to kill a member of the Steel Trap Pirates," they simultaneously shouted in anger, but still in shock from the unexpected killing of their comrade.

They turned around to see K'ron standing there with fresh bandages around his hands and one around his midsection, bloody claymore being held over his bare shoulder as fresh blood still dripped from the top part of the blade.

"Why you little-"

"We'll teach you to-"

A single, swift swing of the gigantic sword lopped the two grown men in half before either could even finish their thoughts. Blood splattered onto K'ron's face, but he kept an almost psychotic grin the entire time. Isaac barely paid any attention to the scene, still focused on figuring out the best way to eat around where the pirate ran his finger. His thoughts were violently ripped back to the moment at hand, though, when the boot on K'ron's foot came clearly into view... right on top of what was left of the molten chocolate lava cake.

K'ron just shrugged it off and wiped his boot against the ground to get the cake off, but tears began streaming down Isaac's cheeks as he looked upon the crushed and completely ruined dessert, imagining how it would've tasted. The two seemed to be in completely different worlds as they simultaneously spoke to each other, but moreso to themselves.

"True, there's nothing like that first kill, but it really is a bit overrated."

"Why? All you had to do was watch where you're going"

Once they realized that both of them were talking at the same time, they stared blankly at each other for a few moments until K'ron broke the awkward silence with a seemingly random remark.

"Anyways, this sword's a bit clunky and unwieldy. It's not practical for use."

The young pirate made to walk off, but was stopped by Isaac calling after him.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Into the forest to get me something to eat. I'm hungry," K'ron answered with a nonchalant shrug.

"You can't just wander in there; their base is in that forest."

"Whose base?"

"The Steel Trap Pirates."

"Hmm... nope never heard of 'em."

Isaac would've been floored by K'ron's absentmindedness if he wasn't still fuming over Mrs. Toosan's ruined cake. K'ron resumed walking away, claymore still dripping blood from its perch atop his shoulder, but was once again stopped by Isaac's yelling.

"Hold up! The Steel Trap Pirates are the pirates that control this island. Their entire fleet consists of 20 galleon class ships plus the captain's personal ship."

"So."

Isaac sweatdropped at that. He simply couldn't believe K'ron's blasé attitude; the stranger obviously didn't understand how bad this was.

"There are five Fleet Commanders, each controls four ships and that portion of the crew. Worse yet, the captain and his commanders all came from the New World," Isaac tried to explain.

K'ron: So they're cowards who ran from the greatest sea; so what?

Isaac: Ugh, listen you baka, the captain has a bounty of over 100 million beli and each commander has a bounty between 20 and 60 million. But, they have the nearby Marines in their pocket, so their bounties haven't increased since they arrived here and they've been placed as low priority.

"Hmph," K'ron scoffed, unimpressed but no longer heading toward the forest.

Isaac breathed a sigh of relief thinking he'd finally broken through K'ron's thick head, but fell back and hit the tree so hard it finally broke in half when K'ron spoke the next line.

"Sounds like fun."

"Fun? Are you crazy? Do you have a death wish? You can't beat them."

Isaac was frantic, ignoring the steadily growing lump on his head. Sure K'ron deserved to be punished for destroying the cake, but this was too much no matter how mouthwateringly delicious the tantalizing, rich chocolate cake. After seeing his dad beaten by the combined forces of the pirates and the head of the Marine base at such a young age, he felt a deep, internalized sense of dread regarding facing those two entities. He was just biding his time until he could sneak off and join the Marines so that he could acquire the power and backing necessary to take them both down. But, K'ron viewed the situation completely different.

"What do you live for?"

The out of the blue question threw Isaac for a momentary loop and paused every thought that was running through his head.

"Life's boring if you just always play it safe. It's more fun to attempt the impossible."

Silence hung between them as the weight of his words got Isaac thinking.

"Besides, I can't die; I'm going to be Pirate King."

With that, K'ron strolled off into the forest, leaving Isaac on his knees, dumbfounded.

Isaac had gone back to his house with the ingredients that survived his run in with those pirates and methodically, almost absentmindedly, put everything up. He'd decided that if K'ron wanted to get himself killed it was none of his business; he was going to head home and go to sleep. But, he couldn't get K'ron's words out of his head – 'What do you live for?' – That question constantly resonated within him as he walked home, and even still as he moved about his house. Isaac walked to his room, intent to smother the badgering question out of his head once he laid down, but he made a wrong turn somewhere ending up instead in the backyard.

The area was extremely spacious with a few sparse trees on the edges and a line of boulders, the size of small mountains, forming a perimeter at the far outskirts. Looking at the cut marks that had been made into some of the thicker trees and the jagged stumps of trees that were broken in two, Isaac knew what he had to do.

"That bastard took my sword. . . And, he owes me a cake."

Isaac walked to the boulder right next to the only opening in the line of stones. It was the smallest of the boulders by a small margin and it had a few small indents into the same spot of its side. Isaac slid his right foot back and prepared to throw a punch. Twisting his hips and turning his wrist at just the right moment, he threw a perfect form punch that cleanly hit the boulder in the same area as the other indents. The punch left a crater in the rock about three times bigger than Isaac himself with enough room to literally walk almost halfway into the stone. Looking to the empty space next to him, which was actually covered with numerous tiny pebbles and hand size rocks, a single thought entered his mind before he walked through the opening and toward the forest and the pirates' base.

Isaac: 'I'm still not as strong as you, dad, but I'll get there. . . someday.'

K'ron had wandered aimlessly into the forest; he had no clue where the pirate base was so he just walked around humming a tune to himself. He actually walked out of the forest a few times only to turn around and repeat the process. After his stomach grumbled for the umpteenth time, he decided the pirates could wait and he'd find himself something to eat first. So, he returned to simply meandering through the vast forest. After a while, fortune smiled upon him as five drunk and boisterous pirates crossed his path. They didn't initially notice him, so he called out to get their attention.

"Hey, you guys! Got any food on ya!?"

The pirates just stood there confused for a moment before one with a scar running through his ear and across the side of his face stepped forth.

"Huh? Who are you; what are you doing here?"

"Name's K'ron. I'm just looking for some food. Got any," he answered casually.

"No; not right now," a second pirate answered before being admonished with a smack to his head.

"You idiot; we have no reason to answer him."

"Oh, a'ight. See ya, then," K'ron shrugged, ready to resume his search.

"Hold up! Do you think we're stupid?"

"Don't you know who we are?"

It was now K'ron's turn to be confused. To that extent, K'ron turned around with a questioning expression on his face while cleaning his ear with his extended pinky finger.

"Eh; what are you talkin' about?"

"Don't play dumb with us."

"We're members of the Steel Trap Pirates."

The pirates all started chuckling as the expression on K'ron's face changed from questioning to pensive, prompting them to boast of their strength.

"Seems you understand the trouble you're in."

"Get on our bad side, you're dead meat."

"You don't stand a chance against us"

"Now run away while you still have a chance"

"Hahahahaha!"

"Ha! I think he's too scared to mo~ve."

"Shut up. I'm trying to think," K'ron demanded, his fist lodged deep into the torso of the closest pirate. "I know I've heard of the Whatchamacallit Pirates somewhere before."

The other four stepped back, mouths agape, while their partner fell to the ground. After regaining their wits, the group reached for their weapons as K'ron kept trying to remember where he'd heard that name before. Before any of them could attack, though, they were stopped in their tracks by something behind K'ron that scared them stiff.

"Now I remember," he exclaimed only now noticing the fearful expressions on the pirate's faces, he turned around to see what was behind him, and spotted a Big Kodiak Bear, approximately six times the size of a normal bear. Stars shined in K'ron's eyes as a line of drool escaped from his open mouth at the sight of the gigantic, fierce creature. However, he became annoyed when the bear came down on all fours and unleashed a threatening roar right in his face, splattering spittle all over his body.

Frowning at being covered in spit, K'ron used the bandages wrapped around his forearms to wipe it away while the terrifying creature moved to devour him. K'ron, though, threw a single overhead right, the form reminiscent of a baseball pitching motion, that sent the huge animal crashing into the ground, unconscious. K'ron then turned to the pirates, smirking.

"Okay, now that food's taken care of, what's next?. . . Oh yeah, the sumthin-or-other pirates; the cap'n s'posed to be crazy strong."

Intimidated by the fact that he'd already taken out one of them as well as one-shotting that Big Bear, the pirates started whispering amongst themselves that he must be talking about their captain, earning an excited smile from K'ron.

"So, you know him? Great; take me to him!"

"Not... so... fast. I won't... just let... you see the captain," one of the braver pirates spoke up, his voice shaky even as he tried to appear tough.

The downed member of the small group had regained consciousness and was struggling to stand up. This and his insistence to stand in K'ron's way made the young pirate frown, presumably at the fact that he held back before, but possibly due to regretting having to step it up this time. Ignoring all of that, K'ron turned his back to him and focused on figuring out how to cook the bear. The pirate, though, pulled a pistol from his nearest crewmate and fired a shot at K'ron's back.

His hands, however, were too shaky and the bullet whizzed straight through K'ron's messy, disheveled hair, upsetting the young pirate to the point that he immediately turned around, appearing in front of the pirate almost instantly before delivering yet another bone breaking uppercut to the pirate's midsection followed by a simultaneous elbow and knee to opposite sides of the helpless man's head, crushing his skull and leaving him a bleeding mess on the rough forest ground. Not wasting any time, K'ron swung the huge claymore he was still carrying around and aimed it at the remaining pirates.

"Anybody else wanna bring up opposing arguments or are you all willing to take me to your leader? . . . Wow that sounded cheesy."

Despite what K'ron may have thought of the line, the pirates were too scared to critique, fearfully nodding their ascent to the question.

"Good; then hand over your weapons."

"A'ight then; one of you lead the way. The rest of you, drag that bear with us; hopefully ya got a way to make a big fire at your hideout so we can cook it," he commanded further once all weapons had been handed over.

While K'ron was getting lost and making new ' _friends_ ', Isaac had entered the forest as well, and since it was common knowledge among all the island's villages where the Steel Trap Pirates' stronghold was- and he didn't have K'ron's horrible sense of direction-, he made good time in getting to the area. The base didn't even attempt to be hidden. They had fires lit, large wooden structures and a wooden fence surrounding the entire complex. On top of that, it was situated in the middle of a huge clearing that no animals dared go near; it was impossible to miss if you ventured far enough into the forest. Isaac climbed a tree about fifty yards away from the pirates' fort and looked over the complex to see if he could find K'ron, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The fact that K'ron hadn't arrived, made Isaac happy, but, at the same time, filled him with a sense of dread. So, he decided to wait around for a bit to see if anything happened, but hours passed and nothing did.

"Ugh, it's almost midnight and he still hasn't shown up. This was a waste," Isaac complained as his stomach grumbled heartily. "I didn't even get to eat anything since I came after that baka; I guess I'll wait a little longer and steal some food . . . and some more money while I'm at it."

That thought brought a contented smile to Isaac's face as he drifted to sleep high up on the tree branch. But, he was rudely roused from his nap by a loud noise at the pirate base down below.

K'ron had smashed open the front gate using a tree trunk he'd punched down, and was now sauntering into the fort with the others struggling to pull the bear behind him. Once inside they dropped the bear, scared looks on their faces as the two hundred or so men within swarmed around the group.

'Ba~ka,' Isaac thought, his jaw wide in disbelief.

K'ron looked around the base with an interested gaze while the four pirates pled for mercy. On the inside, the base looked like a fairly typical pirate haunt minus an abundance of loose women. But, one thing primarily stood out to K'ron: barrels scattered around the perimeter of the complex for no particular reason.

"Either ya'll are planning some sort of attack, or you knew I was coming," K'ron commented with a smile and a shrug. "Either way, why don't we make some fireworks?"

Pulling out a pistol, K'ron took aim at a barrel and shot a hole in it, causing a dark liquid to start pouring out. While all the pirates started panicking, K'ron just smirked as he shot another barrel before setting off a chain of explosions along the perimeter with a final shot. Oil and gunpowder ignited, a great blaze ripped through most of the lodgings in the complex. The roaring inferno rocked the camp, engulfing everything along the fort's edge, on its way to lighting up the night sky, but was quickly contained by the steel walls along the inner lining of the perimeter, creating a deadly furnace within the designated bounds. Still though, the fire crackled menacingly as a backdrop to the commotion, setting the scene to come.

"This is the worst way to proceed; I knew I should've just gone to sleep and forgot about this mess," Isaac's complaints continued. "Ugh, but I have to get my sword back."

He was about to leap into the middle of the disturbance, but was stopped by a loud voice emanating from within the largest building of the pirate base.

"Who did this? It's not nearly time yet."

Behind the thin, beaded curtain that acted as a door to the building, an imposing silhouette was visible. Thanks to the illumination provided by the fire, even Isaac could see, and he audibly gulped at the sight, though, within the walls of the base, K'ron, who had recently tossed the bear to roast in the raging fire, grinned in anticipation.


	38. Waiting Game

**Waiting Game**

Raine, outfitted in a shimmering black gown, sat in a corded off back area of a posh, upscale lounge just outside Gold City surrounded by a gaggle of admirers. It was nicer than anything the average citizen could ever dream of with tapestries, performance artists, or fine art everywhere you turned, but scaled back just a little and in a far more relaxed atmosphere so that the young adult nobles felt a little wild just by venturing even this far away from the most guarded sectors of a secluded, well protected resort island.

A coquettish smile playing on her lips, Raine took a small sip of the drink in her hand, acting as if she had trouble holding her liquor. A roguishly handsome young man chose to try and take advantage of that, sliding his hand up Raine's toned thigh - exposed even more so by the extra high slit running up the dress as she crossed her long, luscious legs - with a gap toothed smile. Contrary to her usual temperament, the fiery navigator merely shirked her leg away, frowning at the lust-filled baby blues running the length of her enviable figure. But, that was enough for three others to step in and usher him away, eager to take his place on the couch next to the lovely Raine.

From the moment, she sashayed into the warm glow of the nightclub lights, bathed in a lavender hue, Raine inherently claimed the spotlight. The perception of time slowed, Raine reveled in the attention. Each step drew more attention, the high slit rising to the zenith of anticipation in the drooling masses despite the flowing gown being deceptively conservative. Strapless and backless (reminiscent of a bustier with an attached long skirt), the dress showed no cleavage save for a small triangle cut in the center. And, the rear dip ending at a firm hold just above the swell of her sublime backside was only matched by the nearly imperceptible chain stopping the high-cut slit from showing more than just leg. But, the alluring air about the pink-haired goddess made reality irrelevant as even the bouncers stared slack jawed as Raine showed herself to one of the club's private sections.

Raine was having a good time teasing and flirting with the numerous male and female admirers alike as they kept the liquor flowing and the live music set an energetic, upbeat ambience. Laughing a little more than necessary at a clever remark made by a good looking, wavy haired young man in an intricately detailed sport coat and blue jeans, she finished off the last little bit of her second drink. Taking the ivy hat from his head with a coquettish smile, Raine placed it on her head, giving a sexy pose that drew appreciative applause before grabbing the young man's hand and pulling him to the dance floor along with a curvaceous strawberry blonde sporting a sinfully short, form-fitting single shoulder dress with cut outs on the side.

Dancing with abandon, all eyes in the club were glued to Raine. The freedom with which she moved and the sultry movement of her hips as the music followed the beat of her drum enticed all around as she snaked her body along those of her dance partners. But, while all eyes were on her, her attention never swayed from the shorter blonde woman. Not the captivating look of erotic bliss in her almond colored eyes or the teasing promise of a slip as her firm chest bounced hypnotically in their tight confines and her already short dress would ride up just a bit. Nor was it out of wonder that the young woman could move the way she did in those clear stiletto heels. No, Raine's eyes always kept the woman's chest in view. Or rather, the sparkling sapphire nestled between her mouthwatering cleavage. The jewel, the size of a baby's fist, was surrounded by sparkling diamonds all in a setting of pure gold. It was easier to simply call it priceless than to bother reciting its true value. And, it was easier to 'lose' in the commotion of an active dance floor, even if everyone else had ceded way to the show they were putting on.

And, boy did they put on a show. Spinning, wild dancing and sultry exhibitions soon gave way to more intimate grinding and clutching. Eventually, the young man Raine had pulled to the floor with them began to feel like a third wheel before being phased out entirely. But, he minded very little as he too joined the gawking crowd. Thought of it left entirely when, as the bumping, pulsating music began to die down, Raine pulled the blonde in close, their supple bodies pressed together as Raine stole a short kiss. The crowd's shock was short lived as the blonde, drunk on the excitement and attention (and the alcohol), grabbed Raine's face and fell into the pleasure of a second kiss, this one more prolonged and passionate than the first.

But, as Raine's tongue snaked into the other woman's mouth to find its counterpart, her hand found what it was looking for, trailing through the blonde's hair until it grasped the back of the young woman's neck, nimble fingers loosening the pricey accessory and sliding it from around her neck shortly before she herself pulled away from the kiss, leaving the blonde more than a little breathless.

The vivacious princess's cheeks practically glowed with a heavy blush that matched her long locks and helped to highlight a smattering of adorable freckles around her button nose. Raine was unable to bid adieu with anything more than a light peck as a new song picked up and she was pulled away by a small group.

Before she could pick her next mark, though, a new arrival seemed to take the air out of the building with his presence alone. The older gentleman, whose white hair and gray streaked mustache made him look about two decades past his prime, would typically have looked out of place draped in an animal skin scarf in a nightclub surrounded by kids less than half his age but the confident swagger he exuded would make someone believe he owned the world, a powerful presence that could go anywhere and not only belong but dominate. With the fresh blue suit pulled taut over his stocky build, he crossed the club floor with a cheeky smile, a ferret running up to rest on his broad shoulder when he finally stopped in front of Raine.

The music had already petered out with an indecisive drum strike, but he held up a hand to keep them from resuming. "Lady DeWynter, still as beautiful as ever I must say. And, still up to your old games. These children are young enough to be yours. Why don't you come with me? Let these kids enjoy their youth of drinking and debauchery."

The expression on Raine's face was frozen, perpetually stuck somewhere at the crossroads of pissed, confused, and just plain lost. Still, though, with no conscious will to do so, Raine followed the man out of the club, her legs acting of their own accord in this stranger's domineering presence.

As life slowly seeped back into the club atmosphere, an eclectic mix of puzzlement and frustration dominated, but even those most upset by Raine being led away dared do no more than watch the pair depart over the horizon, silently seething at the doorway.

 **[Hours Earlier]**

Left to his own devices, Vega did what he'd done since childhood, experience making an expert of a prodigy.

"What," an obese woman snapped at the plump boy in a little sailor suit next to her. The boy turned to her, lollipop in hand and a confused expression on his face. "Why do you keep tapping mommy, Jr!?"

A shrug and a finger pointing at her was the only response she got. Looking down, her face fell.

A high pitched scream drew attention to a petite woman on a crowded street. Bony fingers dragged along an unnaturally long neck as she clawed for something that wasn't there. "What is it, honey," a rotund man asked, concern etched on his face.

"My necklace. The necklace you bought me for our 20th anniversary is gone!"

"I'm sure you just misplaced it. Don't worry. I'll buy you another one. Now, let's get moving; you're causing a scene."

The woman shuffled along at the behest of her husband until he suddenly stopped, mouth agape as worry replaced the concern on his face. "My rings. Someone stole my rings," he exclaimed, the high tenor of his voice drawing onlookers on the moderately quiet street.

Similar scenes played out all across the bustling island over the following hours. Any and all manner of personal property vanished without a trace. From little trinkets to elaborate jewels to clothes, if it could be pilfered, swept away, or otherwise absconded with it was.

* * *

"Chief, reports of theft are coming in from all across Gold City!" The main room of the police headquarters building was in a state of chaos. Grown men and women running around in a panic like chickens with their heads cut off while den den mushis rang almost nonstop. The chief, a stout, rugged man with a scar running over his eyepatch covered left eye, crossed his arms across his broad, barrel chest, thick, calloused hands absent-mindedly stroking through his coarse beard as subordinates screamed over one another to get his attention.

"Enough!" That one word shouted by his deep, baritone brought about utter silence from the people in the room. Even the transponder snails looked hesitant to continue ringing. Pointing a finger at a small, bookish young fellow hiding behind stacks of paperwork, the chief questioned, "What do we know about the thefts?"

"Not much, sir. There's no real commonality between the locales, the victims have nothing in common with one another, and there's no consistency in what's stolen. It all just seems to be crimes of opportunity for a very skilled thief."

"Do we know their number?"

"No."

"Well, what sort of description do we have for the perpetrators?"

A young man in uniform stood up to address his superior. He looked very much like the meek individual before him if the first guy stood up straight, had a bit more definition to his physique, and overall were a more confident fellow.

"None, sir. No one has actually seen the perpetrator. A few people describe a gust of wind carrying their items away, but most haven't even noticed until later. Whispers are starting that it may be a ghost responsible."

"Ghost? There will be no ghost in Gold City on my watch," the chief growled. "I want all available resources focused on catching these criminals. If we can't maintain order, it will be our heads. . . Well, what are you all standing around for? Get moving!"

Feet pounded around the room, bodies rushing to and fro. The officers rushed to pick up their stuff, get out on patrol in full force, and execute their directive. The hustle passed quickly - each man and woman being well trained and perpetually ready - leaving only the chief and the two men he'd questioned about the situation surrounded by a smattering of staff to handle incoming reports.

"Uh, sir. One other thing," the shy fellow in heavy rimmed glasses hesitantly addressed his intimidating superior officer once relative quiet had returned.

"What?"

"Well. . . I don't know if this is important or not -"

"Spit it out already, Erin!"

"Sensors picked up something approaching the island around noon." The words spilled from his mouth so fast they sounded more like a single complicated word than a sentence.

". . . Why wasn't I informed of this?" The chief's tone was measured but the finger tapping on his bulging bicep indicated his waning patience.

"Because it was just a giant fish," the second officer from before answered, earning Erin a raised eyebrow from the chief.

"It was moving at a very high rate of speed, and its instincts should have kept it from approaching the island once it got a whiff of the pheromones in the air."

"So, it strayed a little. That's-"

"For it to go against nature, someone strong must've been commanding it," the chief mused. There are intruders on my island. Derin, grab your gear. You're gonna spearhead this investigation from the field; your brother can handle the information side by himself."

"Sir?"

"Don't make me repeat myself. I don't care about your little problem; Sir Luscious is on his way here! I want this Ghost exorcised before he arrives."

"Sir, yes sir."

 **[Days Later]**

The port was bustling with activity. Seaside shops overflowed with business. The usual chatter had increased since the arrival of Sir Luscious, his six wives, and three adult children two days prior, but with the actual cruise to Reverie finally happening, the surrounding hoopla seemingly reached a new peak as rows of nobles lined up to board the massive luxury liner. Even if only a handful of the thousands of noble families present were actually going to attend the big event, this was arguably the bigger deal. At no other time in the world were more alliances forged, deals struck, and political and military die cast than this event hosted by the esteemed Suny family.

One person not partaking was Shaad. The pirate captain kept an ear out for any interesting gossip, but overall he was more enamored with the ship itself. It was one of the largest ships he'd ever seen - second only to the gold-gilded World Noble's ship a couple of days prior - and was going to be the biggest one he'd ever been on. His eyes, though, took special notice of everything not nailed down as well as the number and location of the attendants, servants, and guards. Shaad was calm, calculating, when he felt a presence appear behind him, bringing a smirk to his face.

"Why hello, Ghost. Say goodbye to Gold City; this ship will be a far more interesting playground."


	39. Trial by Fire

**Trial by Fire**

"Yo. You da cap'n, I take it? . . . Ya'll ain't tell me he was so big," K'ron stated, turning away from craning his neck at the scowling stranger nearly twice his height with toned, chiseled features to briefly address the pirates that led him there. The myriad of scars adorning the captain's chest hinted to the many battles he'd survived, and the ground shook as he lumbered closer to the madly grinning K'ron.

"Ya look pretty strong for a coward," K'ron remarked.

"What!? Who brought this punk here?" The captain voiced frustration as he scanned the area, his eyes stopping to glare daggers at the four men closest to the intruder. The four pirates began to sweat bullets under the heat of his gaze, backing away nervously as they fell to their knees to plead for their lives. "What do you sorry lot have to say for yourselves?"

K'ron grew bored as the four men behind him pleaded for their lives. Through all their stammering, one of them referred to the leader as Captain Shin, but K'ron paid it no mind as his grumbling stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten in almost a full day. As quickly as it came, though, his train of thought was interrupted by the captain's booming voice.

"Enough!"

With that single utterance four simultaneous gunshots rang out followed by the silent thuds of the four pirates' bodies crashing helplessly to the ground, still with a desperate look in each of their eyes.

"Now, it's your turn, brat."

No less than 20 guns were immediately trained on the young pirate from every direction while others held swords to his neck. Isaac prepared to jump down from the tree and help out, but he paused upon noticing the expression on K'ron's face. K'ron held the same manic grin with Isaac's claymore still resting on his shoulder.

"You'll need more than twenty or so amateur marksman to stop me."

The pirates paid his words no heed as each of them fired near simultaneously. K'ron sidestepped the tight grouping of shots and wildly swung the claymore to create a brief opening. Using the pause created by such a wild strike, he jumped into the midst of a nearby group, and plunged the sword clean through the torso of a pirate before releasing the sword and delivering a jump knee to the one behind the first. K'ron moved quickly, slamming the head of a third pirate into the ground and sweeping the legs of two others.

"Kill him, you louts," the captain, Shin, shouted.

K'ron spun the impaled pirate around and used the man's body to shield himself from a volley of gunshots as the remaining pirates organized themselves and closed in. With his 'shield' riddled with bullets, K'ron charged directly into even more enemies, impaling two more foes on the colossal claymore. Without wasting a second, he kicked all three off the sword and swung it haphazardly at another person, cutting him completely in two and lopping off the arm of the man behind him. Despite having previously referred to the oversized claymore as 'clunky and unwieldy', K'ron was developing a newfound respect for its sharpness and weight.

Thanks to his most recent slash, though, the sword's tip had been lodged into the ground and got stuck. Once again, K'ron released the blade and jumped bare handed into the middle of even more pirates. With a series of powerful punches and the occasional kick, he effortlessly dispatched the wave of enemies, leaving many with broken or fractured bones and, in at least two cases, cracked skulls, courtesy of brutally smashing two pirates' skulls together. Blood and brain matter spewing everywhere, K'ron mercilessly tossed his two most recent victims aside like simple trash.

It didn't take long for him to work his way back to the sword, and with a boot to the chest, he knocked the last opponent standing between him and the weapon back into the blade. Giving his target no time to recover, K'ron followed up by nearly crushing the man's skull with another powerful boot. The attack also had the side effect of prying the sword loose, leaving the unfortunate pirate with his head as the only part of him not sliced in two.

Isaac watched with a combination of intrigue and disgust as K'ron tore, sometimes literally, through the Steel Trap Pirates standing in his way. It was abundantly clear that K'ron wasn't as weak as he'd initially acted, but with almost 200 men left, there was no way he could beat them all and have a hope of surviving against the captain.

With that in mind, Isaac slipped on the chain link gloves he'd bought earlier that day and jumped into the fray to assist his new acquaintance.

Two pirates had somehow actually managed to sneak up on K'ron and were just about to drive their swords through him - since guns had already been the cause of so much friendly fire - when something crashed into them from behind, causing their eyes to bug out of their sockets and drove them into the ground. Isaac removed his fists from their heads and stood up to greet K'ron. The unexpected happening created a lull in the action which allowed Isaac and K'ron to briefly exchange words, though they still seemed to be on two different pages.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but give me back my sword."

"Great; you finally made it. Now, I can focus on the captain while you deal with weaklings."

That wasn't at all what Isaac had in mind when he jumped into the center of all this, but K'ron completely ignored him as he called out to the oblivious young man. K'ron, meanwhile, cracked his knuckles in anticipation of a good one-on-one brawl. The sword remained near Isaac, leaving two small knives as the only weapons in K'ron's possession.

At that moment, the fire crackled loudly and exploded to new heights and a new level of intensity, eliciting a shocked jump from the lean newcomer. A large group of the pirates surrounded Isaac and prepared to take their revenge on him for what their comrades had been unable to do against K'ron.

"Wait; you look familiar," a random pirate called out.

"What? No, you must be mistaken," Isaac replied, trying to hide his face as he thought this may be one of the pirates he'd stolen from.

"That's it," the pirate exclaimed. "You must be that Marine's kid; you look just like him."

Isaac let out a sigh of relief at that statement, but there was no containing himself at the next statement.

"That stupid Marine actually thought he could take the Captain? Hah!"

"It was simply pathetic is what it was," another pirate concurred.

"And the way he whined as his own superior stuck a sword clean through his chest... Priceless; shit eaters like him deserve nothing less."

All the surrounding pirates erupted into a round of raucous laughter as they positively recalled that moment. Isaac simply stood stock still before them, eyes shadowed by his loose hair as he clenched his fists and ground his teeth. The pirates switched the target of their laughter from Isaac's deceased father to Isaac himself, standing silent and frustrated with twin tears streaming down his cheeks.

Their preemptory celebration was cut short, though, as Isaac released every bit of his ire in a single devastating moment. In the time it took them to turn their attention back to Isaac, he had already lashed out and knocked a half dozen of them unconscious. It was already too late to lament their taunting as Isaac came after them with a ferocity and brutality almost equal to K'ron before.

K'ron, for his part, ignored the commotion behind him, steadily making his way towards the captain instead. But, the fact that he was through dealing with the crew in no way meant they reciprocated the feeling.

"What are ya'll doing? I'm through fighting you weaklings; go annoy... Damn!" K'ron cursed as the commotion allowed a sword a glancing strike along his cheek before the wielder was left lying motionless in the fetal position from a single punch.

K'ron fended off the constant attacks coming at him, but even he was a bit distracted by the destructive capability Isaac exhibited. Isaac's movements were crisp and fluid, and the power of each punch was easily enough to knock out this level of opponent with even a glancing blow.

K'ron could hear Isaac's cries of superiority and an angered defense of his father's pride over the sound of crunching bones and the pirates' wails of pain, but the driving force behind Isaac was far less important than the sight that stood before him. Shin, the captain of the Steel Trap Pirates, haughtily smirked at his and Isaac's efforts, beckoning them both to try and make it to him.

Shin was a merciless pirate, but he took particularly great joy in personally destroying one's dreams and ambitions with his own two hands. If these two brats wanted to challenge his might, he'd be more than happy to grind them each into the dirt until they begged for mercy, in despair of the moment they made themselves known, under the weight of his boot before he ultimately wiped their existence from the face of the planet.

The experienced pirate had size and an obvious strength advantage but that didn't perturb K'ron in the least as the focused young man broke the spine of one of the pirate's underlings with an elbow to the center of the back while yanking his head backwards after ducking under a wild punch. Leaving yet another crumpled body in his wake, K'ron confidently strode to within shouting distance of the larger Shin, breaking through a defensive force of a dozen armed pirates to get to the clearing where the 100 million beli man waited with arms crossed and bulky gauntlets on each forearm.

As K'ron readied to face this challenge, he called to Isaac to keep the pests off of him. Shin simply smirked as a now calm Isaac swiftly approached, standing back to back with K'ron, awaiting all those that had grouped into an unorganized line and followed him. A small smile spread across Isaac's features as more and more enemy pirates fell in and set themselves up perfectly for his next move.

Sliding his right foot back, Isaac similarly cocked back his right fist, keeping his left in front of him. **"Destructive Wave Fist."** With a twist of his back ankle, a swivel of his hips, and a lightning fast snap of his shoulder, Isaac rolled his fist over and blasted most of those in front of him with an incredible show of unseen force. That single punch released every ounce of Isaac's power in a concussive, unidirectional blast that broke bones of those within twenty yards and sent them all flying back into those who weren't even in range of the devastating blow, clearing an entire section of the enemy with a single move. Some of those in the path of the attack even got blasted back into the fiery perimeter lining the walls, setting them ablaze and inciting panic via those who remained conscious enough to scramble around in immense agony like a chicken with its head cut off while on fire. This instilled even more pause in the remainder of the pirates, who were now significantly demoralized and nearly frozen even as the towering inferno K'ron had sparked spread across the encampment, spreading a swath of destruction by igniting the wood based lodgings as the blaze steadily expanded inwards, threatening to leave nothing but ash and the smell of burning, cooked flesh within the walls by the end of the night.

"You IDIOTS," Shin angrily yelled. "You can't even take care of two mere brats, and now you let this happen!? Stop the spread of that fire while I pound these two to dusts."

"Na, I'm your opponent." K'ron thumbed his nose with a confident smirk. "Isaac, stand aside; this'll be fun."

"We'll see how fun you think it is when I'm about to crush your skull."

"Oh yea? Now, I'm excited."

Showing an impressive jumping ability, Isaac got to the top of the great wooden wall surrounding the pirates' base. Thanks to the steel lining along the inner perimeter of the wall, the raging blaze couldn't reach him aside from a few licking flames which helped him to keep warm under the cold, moonlit sky. From his perch, Isaac had an unimpeded view of the ensuing clash between the man he couldn't help but view as unstoppable and the newly arrived pirate upstart. He didn't feel K'ron had much of a chance, but there was nothing he could do at this juncture, so he simply watched and waited.

K'ron got things started by rushing in and slamming Shin with a jaw-jacking uppercut that forced the larger pirate to take a step back. But, Shin wasn't nearly so weak as to let that fell him, grabbing K'ron's fist and attacking with a crushing headbutt that buckled the young fighter's knees.

K'ron checked his forehead for blood, and was a bit surprised to see the crimson liquid stain his palm.

"You're tough," he commented, the sight of his own bold only exciting him.

"You don't know the half of it."

The mighty pirate captain then lashed out with a stinging right cross that landed cleanly on K'ron's jaw before lifting the smaller man up with a powerful punch to the gut. But, K'ron brought his guard in and was able to protect his ribs from the brunt of the strike. Still, though, he was defenseless against the bone jarring forearm strike that sent him crashing to the ground and coughing up blood. He felt every curve and hooking angle of Shin's bulky gauntlets as he was hammered further into the ground by a double hammer fist. K'ron was driven into the earth with such force that all that was left once the dust cleared was his broken carcass buried in gravel.

That was, at least, what Shin and even Isaac expected. Instead, K'ron pulled himself from the crater with surprisingly steady composure, rising to his feet with a smirk and gleaming eyes shining from underneath his blood matted hair and the steady stream of the precious liquid flowing from his head. Shaking a few cobwebs loose, K'ron looked to his opponent with the utmost confidence.

"I guess the warmup's over; thanks for helping me loosen up."

"Hmph, you're funny kid. I'm gonna enjoy caving your skull in and grinding you to paste."

Shin was as confident as K'ron looked, attacking with a heavy straight. Despite the lethality the attack held, K'ron wasn't one to back down. The brash, young pirate dipped beside the fist, his forearm glancing against Shin's gauntlet, and stepped in to deliver a thunderous, gut wrenching body blow to Shin's unguarded ribs, burying into the taut muscle of Shin's abdomen. K'ron drove the strike deeper until he was sure he heard at least one rib crack, momentarily winding the larger combatant and forcing a moment of pause. K'ron used the opportunity to duck inside of Shin's still outstretched arm and put all of his weight behind an overhead punch that sent Shin's massive body tumbling backwards like a stone skipping on water before crashing through a well built cabin, the wooden structure caving in and collapsing on top of the fearsome fighter.

Isaac shot to his feet in disbelief at the momentous spectacle, but K'ron knew such a worthy foe wouldn't fall so easily; he also wouldn't be getting out of that wreckage unscathed either, though, and that was a small victory for now.

But, the enemy in front wasn't the only problem he had to contend with as the rampaging inferno around them continued to devour everything in its path. The rest of the Steel Trap Pirates struggled futilely to combat the menace, more and more becoming mere kindle to the flames with each passing moment. Their efforts slowed the blaze down significantly, but like some sort of famished beast it leaped over every stop gate measure and continued its horrific wave of explosive fury, belching out an ever flowing cascade of pitch black smoke from the quarry it consumed. The oppressive haze weighed down on almost everyone trapped within the pirate fort, but K'ron was now also beginning to show signs of slowing down. White bandages and skin blackened by the settling soot and ash, K'ron found it harder to breathe than before, chest heaving up and down with each breath. But, it was in these types of conditions that the confident young man felt most exhilarated. Life and death. Against all odds. Such things were the source of fantasy for him.

Shin's golden gauntlet bursting through the wreckage was the first sign of life, but the rest of him soon followed. He rose, seething, from the pile of crumbled wood and stone. Isaac, from his perch, was sure he saw wisps of steam rising from the infuriated captain, but quickly pushed such notions aside.

"Straighten up men; stop panicking and use the steel ring pit."

The scrambling pirates immediately straightened up at their captain's barked orders, and the sound of clanking metal and creaky gears could be heard over the steady crackling of timber surrounding the makeshift stage. Dirt fell into a circular trench as waist tall slabs of thick steel were pulled up, setting the stage for the impending conclusion of the clash between Shin and K'ron.

The only thing left out was that the Steel Trap pirate crew were now trapped between the steel ring/ trench combo and the roaring wildfire bearing down on them it was intended to keep at bay. Their pained screams filled the air as the roaring flame engulfed them, roasting their flesh before completely incinerating them.

The spine curdling sounds, rancid stench, and grotesque sights of the situation made both Isaac and K'ron feel a bit of unease, though neither could do anything to help any of them. However, Shin, whose crew had just been burned alive, showed no remorse, going so far as to mock the nightmarish incident upon seeing K'ron's reaction.

"You don't have time to think about them. Now, that fire's to your back and I'm still right here; there's no escape for you."

"Who needs an escape? My blood is running hotter than any fire. I'll break you with these two fists and walk right out of here.

"We'll see how hot your blood is when it's pouring out of you," Shin laughed.

With the fire just outside of their makeshift ring, K'ron felt the effects even more strongly. Breathing was arduous and his vision was becoming cloudy. He could keep up a strong front a little longer, but his body could only hold up so long. Meanwhile, Shin seemed unaffected, donning a mask to keep from breathing the thick fumes, as if not only was he used to this, but he expected it. Things weren't boding well for K'ron, and they only looked to get worse as Shin appeared right in front of him, towering over him to the extent that their difference in stature seemed magnified in this death match. K'ron barely had time to bring up his guard before Shin's fist collided into him. Shin only threw one punch, but K'ron felt the impact of at least four, breaking through his guard and pounding his stomach after the second impact. K'ron was taken off his feet by the strike, but was immediately brought down with an earth shattering straight before being pummeled with an onslaught of viciously powerful punches, each one feeling like two or three consecutive blows.

K'ron continued to have his own weight pounded down onto his knees as each punch was driven into his flesh, loosening toned muscles with each blow, but he refused to give in. The young pirate endured the merciless beating, pushing through the bone jarring blows until he got close enough and mustered enough strength to lash out with a right hook of his own.

The strike landed squarely on Shin's jaw, briefly pausing his own attack by twisting the veteran pirate's neck. K'ron followed up on the opening that blow created with a violent series of fists, stepping into each punch for maximum power. The reckless brawler threw everything he had into that combination, but under the conditions his strikes lacked their usual finishing power.

Due to the hardened soot nearly encasing him, his movements were stiffer and only at about 60% of when he'd started the fight as evidenced by the fact that instead of the bone cracking shot that he began the brawl with, each of his latest round of shots only left bruises aside from the few that finished breaking the rib that had earlier been cracked.

Shin was staggered as he gingerly felt his broken rib, but after suffering another shot to his jaw, he retaliated, grabbing K'ron's fist and slamming him with a headbutt. That ended all of K'ron's momentum, and Shin proceeded with a second headbutt that sent K'ron reeling, though with Shin's vice grip, the young fighter couldn't escape his grasp. With a third headbutt, K'ron was sent crashing to the ground, this time with a broken nose.

Blood flowed freely from K'ron's broken nose as well as the previous cut to his forehead. Shin was ready to finish things now. The cruel captain stalked the heavily beaten K'ron, and laughed as the stubborn youngster still struggled to his feet, literally black and blue from the pummeling he'd taken combined with the surrounding fire.

"You're re~al unlucky brat; I'm gonna slowly burn you alive."

This time Isaac was sure the steam was real as Shin's forearms and gauntlets glowed brightly, fists becoming a deep orange-ish brown with smoke billowing from them in heavy plumes, something was definitely not normal about Shin. K'ron, though, was out on his feet, staggering forward haphazardly while barely holding up a weak guard.

" **Heated Mountain Crusher!"** Shin stepped his right foot forward with his left fist cocked back, and proceeded with uncompromising resolve to utterly destroy the person 'standing' before him, his anger exacerbated by the cocky grin K'ron maintained. "I'll crush every bone in your body," he roared.

Dodging wasn't an option for the battered K'ron, but even in such dire straits, he never took a step backwards and his resolve didn't once waver. The young K'ron was fully prepared to take the blow head on, knowing full well that he probably wouldn't be able to walk away afterwards. He even went so far as to spit a giant loogie directly into Shin's face, incensing the larger pirate even more.

Shin's fist, now alight into a full-fledged fireball, collided into K'ron's weak guard with murderous intent, easily bursting through. The impact sounded like a gunshot, and K'ron released a howl of agony, the likes of which Isaac had never heard before, as the burning fist exploded into his abdomen. It felt like over a hundred bombs had been consecutively detonated directly into his gut sending the young man rocketing backwards, only stopped by crashing into the superheated steel that made up their 'stage's' barrier. After suffering second and third degree burns to his torso, K'ron had to peel himself from the scorching pain sizzling his back, leaving small bloody bits of flesh cooking on the steel wall. His body, having dented and almost been broken against the sturdy metal, roughly rebounded him onto jelly like legs. While he may have still been standing, it was clear K'ron was far past being punch drunk, making the ever-present smirk even more terrifying and annoying.

Overcome by rage, Shin tackled and mounted K'ron, ready to see whether the cocky, brash young pirate's head would burn to ash or be beaten to an unrecognizable pulp first.

K'ron, choking from the smoke and the weight on top of him, still had the strength to make jokes, remarking, "What; no dinner first?"

"I'll fucking murder you," Shin shouted in a blind rage. As if signifying his emotion, a lightning strike lit up the blacked out night sky just as Shin threw the finishing punch from point blank range.


	40. Playground Antics

**Playground Antics**

"You've made quite a name for yourself," Shaad spoke in hushed tones. "Ghost. . . I like it, but let the Ghost take a break. Stay out of sight, and await my word. Of course, if someone occasionally drops something, it would be your civic duty to pick it up. Just be careful; these thieves may not take kindly to good Samaritans such as ourselves."

With that said, Vega disappeared just as quickly as he'd appeared.

Inching forward in the waiting line, the increased security presence kept Shaad on edge. Marine officers littered the ship including a Vice Admiral surveying the area below deck, and Shaad presumed a World Noble meant an Admiral was almost certainly nearby. His instincts screamed at him to keep a low profile. Unfortunately, that was completely opposite of the man whose identity he'd assumed.

"Stop! No weapons are allowed on board. Relinquish them now, and they will be returned upon your departure."

In the face of three stout men, an appalled shock was Shaad's reaction. "I'll have you know, I am Lord Arturio Braddock IV, esteemed knight and swordsman. My blades shall only be parted from my dead body. If any man shall force his opinion upon my oath, come forth and I shall mete out justice."

Shaad mentally scolded himself. That reaction was outlandish to the point of being a bit cartoonish. There was no way they'd actually buy it. Was there?

"Calm yourself, Lord Braddock," a stern voice compelled from the side, instincts digging at Shaad to react violently to the surprisingly callous hand gripped firmly on his shoulder. "Your uncle, Lord Byron, informed us that you would be representing your family on this occasion. And, like that of a sniper and his weapon, I understand the bond between a Knight and his sword." As Shaad's sight line of the newcomer shifted from a side eye to a full view, he spotted the longbow strapped on the Noble's back for the first time. And, the noble noticed the puzzled expression deep in Shaad's eyes.

"My apologies, Lord Braddock, for not introducing myself. I am Valentino Rozzeg."

Valentino Rozzeg was a prime specimen of a man. Strength, speed, and just the right amount of salt streaks to his pepper hair, the gods' favored son was a man in his late 40's but still looked to be well in his prime, with a smile capable of disarming a warship. Valentino's appearance, demeanor and attitude were entirely contradictory to the feeling Shaad got from him, however. From the almost too fitted cream slacks and long sleeved, wine red button up being stretched taut to the point of bursting around his barrel chest to the opaque yellow and green enamel rosebud pinned onto his right breast, everything about his attire screamed entitled rich bastard (albeit one with an impeccable physique). The white cloak draped on his broad shoulders only added to the dominating, superior air surrounding the large stranger. Sprinkled with rose-cut diamonds and rubies and topped with a deep red, fur collar, the fancy cloak only further pronounced his high status. A status (presumably) told by the mark on his cloak: a Rosebud egg flanked by a golden dragon to each side spewing forth a fire that merged into a flaming crown atop the egg.

But, as regal as Valentino appeared, Shaad saw past the facade the fancy cloak helped to perpetuate. That longbow he carried was definitely not for show. Shaad's victim, Arturio Braddock, was gifted with the finest teachers and a high-born, haughty passion, but no actual skill. This man, though, clearly had it all.

Steadying himself under Valentino's oppressive aura, Shaad heard the last few words of the conversation the noble had been having with the staff attendant. "We're all known nobles here and the Marines have been kind enough to provide increased security this time around. I'm sure if a few invited guests insist on bringing a carry-on, exceptions can be made."

The man - around Shaad's size, but far smaller when compared to the imposing Valentino - quickly agreed and Shaad stepped by with a derisive snort as Valentino handed the man his own longbow, along with a previously unseen quiver of arrows and sabre, from beneath his cloak.

"Hold on, Lord Braddock," Valentino's deep voice called. Shaad stopped cold, a wave of dread washing over him briefly. "I'd heard word that you used a single blade. Was that wrong?"

Shaad, feeling the accusatory glare at his back, instinctively clinched his back, readying to attack. But, his better sense quickly regained control. "My ship was attacked by lowlife pirate scum on the trip here and my sword lost. The captain's weapons were serviceable enough, so I took his until I'm able to have a new blade forged."

Shaad watched Valentino for his reaction. The imposing noble nodded slowly, evaluating the answer in his head. A strong hand stroking his clean-shaven chin, he then stated, "They seem to be quite strong indeed. Do they have names?"

Although, it wasn't imperceptibly fast, the speed with which Valentino got behind Shaad to inspect the swords was still enough to surprise the young pirate. "A pirate with named blades? Don't make me laugh; such trash barely deserves a name themselves," he managed to answer after a short pause.

Valentino's face pursed into a frown, and with two swift steps he stood directly in front of Shaad, hand resting on the pirate's shoulder. "Nonetheless, I'd be honored if you'd grant me a friendly spar."

"Uh, no. . . I-" Shaad tried to deny, but his protests were muffled by one of Valentino's large arms draped around his shoulders as he was essentially forced down a secluded hallway and a hidden staircase.

Standing across from the imposing noble in the steel reinforced, soundproofed room the size of a basketball court, strategies ran through Shaad's mind a mile a minute. His blades dragging behind him, Shaad paced around his opponent. He knew dozens of different styles, but fighting like a blind man who'd never held a sword wasn't one of them. If Valentino had ever seen or heard about Arturio Braddock's swordsmanship, this ruse wouldn't last past the first step. "Lord Rozzeg, I beg you, reconsider. You don't even have your sword anymore," Shaad implored.

Valentino merely clicked his heel against the floorboards beneath his feet and stepped back as a tower rose from the ground. Shaad eyed the tower curiously, wondering whether Valentino would choose a sabre like the one he turned in or maybe a broadsword more befitting his size. He could always surprise with a machete or a pair of a hunting knives. While Shaad mentally ran through all the options, Valentino made his selection: a bamboo shinai.

"Lord Rozzeg," Shaad snapped, his own pride overtaking that of the character he was playing. "There must be a limit to your arrogance."

"I assure you, you have not seen me arrogant. But, I could say the same to you, Sir Braddock."

Shaad growled at his retort. "I am a Knight of -"

A sharp gust of wind brought about the pirate's silence. But, there was no wind in this sealed room. Instead, with a single stroke of a bamboo imitation sword, Valentino Rozzeg created a gale force strong enough to unsteady Shaad.

An alarm blared at the back of Shaad's mind, that always logical part of his mind telling him to back down now. But, his pride and that incessant part of him that enjoyed a challenge wouldn't let him. He wouldn't and couldn't run away. Not here. Not now. And, definitely, not to this. . . this infuriating noble.

" **Boost X2**." Instead, Shaad launched himself toward his challenger. Rearing back with both swords, Shaad swung down with all his might. Two steel swords versus a bamboo shinai; logic clearly dictated the winner of such a conflict. But, as Lord Rozzeg's weapon of choice became enveloped in a black sheen, logic, like Shaad, was thrown aside.

Shaad knew what just happened, and had he been thinking straight, he would've turned tail and run. Unfortunately, his thoughts seemed intent on sending him straight to an early grave. A solid whack to the head further made good choices (and almost consciousness along with them) a product of an alternate reality.

Maybe it was the way Valentino seemingly taunted him with the weapon of choice or maybe it was the obvious gap in strength and skill, but something about the confident noble reminded Shaad of all of his father's worst qualities. While Shaad now understood the extent to which his father had sheltered him much of his life, he was unable to forgive the man that gave him life for just abandoning him. He would not back down from his goal of eliminating the specter that was his father. And, for that goal to be at all realistic, he could not back down now. The gap might prove itself insurmountable, the odds inconceivable, but Shaad refused to let a small thing like the impossible deter him. He would achieve what he set out to accomplish. No matter how many times it took.

Shaad bombarded Valentino with a barrage of swift attacks, his blades coming in from every possible angle. Valentino - calm, almost smirking, however - easily deflected each swing with minimal movement. **"Fractured Memories."** Swinging down with one sword and up with the other, Shaad aimed to cleave off Valentino's wrist.

Recognizing it'd be impossible to block both swords with the shinai, Valentino fell back on his heel, loosing the Haki clad weapon with a flick of his wrist that left it spinning in midair. Shaad's blades caught the shinai as Valentino stepped back in and delivered a devastating spinning elbow.

The powerful blow sent Shaad reeling, using a hand for balance as he slid to a stop. But, despite Shaad clutching his ribs and spitting blood, Valentino did not pursue. The noble continued to look down on Shaad. Nearly on his knees, that infuriated Shaad all the more. He was a conqueror, born into a line of kings and leaders; he bowed for no man.

 **"Speed Boost: Lv. 2."** Pushed to the edge, Shaad turned it up another notch. The young pirate was determined to expose Rozzeg's arrogance. . . and make him pay.

Moving even faster than before, Shaad again charged in. Slashes came in at a frenetic pace, but Valentino somehow stayed a step ahead each time. If Shaad went low, Valentino parried and blocked the high swing that followed before pushing him back with a boot to the chest or an elbow to the jaw. If Shaad came in high, Valentino simply dodged and moved in to counter. Blood dribbling from his mouth and angered, Shaad launched himself into the air, putting the full weight of his fury behind one powerful slash. **"Strength Boost: Lv. 2."**

Valentino, sensing the impending threat of Shaad's attack, strengthened his defense, the black armament Haki spreading to cover his forearms as well. The epic clash shook the room and cracked the reinforced floors. Shaad held the advantage, but he was losing. Shockwaves filled the air as brute strength and honed Haki pushed the youngster back.

 **"Strength Boost: Lv. 3."** Shaad's muscles strained, veins bulging, as he risked everything to best his better. But, it wasn't enough. Valentino, having locked his stance, continued to overwhelm the pirate captain. Black tendrils of Haki embracing his muscled biceps and strong shoulders, Valentino's strength was too much for the young Shaad to handle. Being pushed back, though, Shaad still did not relent or give in.

 **"Strength Boost: Lv. 5."**

He'd sacrifice everything. Pushing his body to its very limits, Shaad could feel his bones cracking and crumbling under the immense pressure of their extended conflict. But, so to did Valentino's bamboo shinai. Hearing one of the leather bands snap, Valentino's immense strength finally waned, his arms being pushed back. However, that was not Shaad's win but his loss as Valentino allowed himself to be pushed so he could take advantage. Letting his arms be pushed back in the struggle brought Shaad in close enough for an earth-shattering punch, the impact plowing through Shaad and wrecking the young man's entire body before Valentino tossed the outlaw overhead.

Shaad, ever resilient and even more stubborn, landed on his feet. His arms pulsed continuously, but they'd be fine with rest from continued exertion. His legs, though, would receive no such break. **"Speed Boost: Lv. 3."** Turning things up another notch, Shaad again moved straight for Valentino. **"Star-crossed Fates!"** Shaad was on top of Valentino in a flash, baring down on his larger foe with outstretched swords ready to carve the mark of death on all that stood in his way.

Valentino was surprised, Shaad was faster than he'd expected. If he'd been more careful, it wouldn't be a problem, but at this range, there were no good options. Shaad was already too close to escape, and the two swords and their approach angles made defense a fool's errand. That only left an offensive counter, an option with a narrow margin for error. As Shaad's blades zoomed in, Valentino blocked the swing coming in from his right, locking his shinai with the guard of Shaad's Tairyoku. Utilizing his superior strength, Valentino threw Shaad's arm aside, his aim clear: force Shaad off balance and draw the smaller man into a short strike to the head from his shinai.

Shaad sensed that goal as well, and while his dominant hand might've been able to strike first, he'd have his senses rocked trying to finish his attack. Instead of being dragged into Valentino's swing, Shaad shifted his weight, repurposing his momentum into a twist and aiming Chiryoku at Valentino's left side.

In that moment, Valentino acknowledged he may have underestimated the youngster standing before him. Perhaps he had been a bit arrogant. But, that only meant he needed to end this. A little more is all it would require. Despite still going strong, the Noble's experience told him Shaad was pushing his limits at this point. Forced to change up his tactics, Valentino coated his left arm in Haki, letting Shaad's encroaching blade clang into his solid defense before knocking the younger fighter to the ground with a vicious swing of the Haki clad shinai.

His vision may have briefly blacked out and the grip on his swords loosened, but Shaad refused to give up until he was completely unconscious. . . or worse. That sort of deciding scenario almost happened as Shaad narrowly avoided the crashing fist looking to bury him in the floor, rolling out of the way and lunging back to create distance.

For the first time during this little skirmish, Valentino made to go for an offensive maneuver. But, he was too slow.

 **"Triple Burst."** This time, Valentino was ready for Shaad's speed. Falling forward, Shaad shot forth from an extremely low angle for added momentum, and in an instant, he was beneath Valentino, swords - held in a reverse grip - snapping forward like shears. However, instead of the Noble's legs, it was the Haki covered shinai Shaad's blades cut into while, from a handstand on top of the bamboo sword, Valentino came down with a leg drop, leg black with armament Haki.

Shaad didn't shy away, though. With one fluid step, the pirate blasted himself upward, meeting the Haki infused leg drop with the cross of his sword sheath. And, while the sheath was shattered into disrepair, it was Valentino that was knocked back.

 **"Serpent's Strike."** Shaad wasted no time in angling himself for a follow-up. With his body streamlined, the outmatched youngster aimed squarely to overcome the odds, his forearms crossed in front and the sharpened tips of his blades leading the way.

A coating of Haki flashed over Valentino's arms as he braced himself. Firmly planting his feet, he caught each of Shaad's blades, immediately pulling them to the sides. If Shaad was thrown off by someone bold enough to catch the swords' sharp blades bare handed, the pirate captain didn't show it, lashing out with a front snap kick to the large man's chest. The strike, landing cleanly, loosened Valentino's grip on the blades and pushed him back.

 **"Speed Boost: Lv. 4."** Shaad knew well the drawbacks of this technique. With each pounding step, his bones would rattle. Every extension would threaten to tear his stressed muscles. If his legs somehow withstood the stress and strain, though, more than a minute of use could leave him immobile for days maybe more while more than two could leave him paralyzed permanently. The last time, he attempted to go above Lv.4, the bones in his leg shattered with the first step. The risks were real, but the very real challenge standing before him called for very real risks. Shaad didn't like pain, but he in no way feared it. Nor did he fear death. He merely feared the prospect of being an easy out for whoever might one day introduce him to his creator. No matter where. No matter who. No matter what, Shaad was determined to leave his mark. It was that determination driving him as he again threw himself into the fire of this fight.

Shooting in faster than sight could perceive, Shaad swung up with the infinitesimally lighter Chiryoku. The clash lasted less than a second as Valentino blocked the strike with a Haki coated shin and Shaad dashed back out after little more than a glancing blow. They'd had enough confrontations already for Shaad to know well that even the most tightly knit combinations were ineffective. So, instead he'd go with a clash-and-dash tactic.

The maneuver worked well. Valentino found it impossible to block or counter every attack when they spawned from a 360° radius. However, Shaad found it similarly impossible to break through the seasoned fighter's full body Haki with only light attacks. It was a stalemate, and Shaad would be the first to crumble if it persisted as such.

 _'Faster. Faster. Faster!'_ The word became a mantra as Shaad willed himself to new heights. Shaad storming in from every possible direction, vicious winds picked up throughout the room, the scene surrounding Valentino cycling between a raging tornado and being encompassed by an army of fast approaching Shaads. That army soon dwindled to four, then three, and finally two. These were no mere afterimages, though, as Shaad jumped between positions so rapidly as to essentially be in two places at once. With Shaad baring down on him from in front and behind, Valentino stood pact, arms raised and ready. This would end here. By a thunderous Haki fueled punch if Shaad wasn't careful.

Valentino was surprised as Shaad's black blade was thrown at him. It was the one thing that now couldn't be replicated, simultaneously making it the most dangerous. At least that's what an amateur would've thought. Locked in flight, it was now the safest variable of this exchange, even if it could spear Valentino through in not more than a half second. Along with the sword still in Shaad's hand, that made three potential attacks to be wary of, and of the two directed by Shaad, there was a 50/50 chance of Valentino misjudging and blocking air.

Three swords, three directions. Valentino widened his stance and focused. Shaad's strategy was good, great even, but just shy of perfect. With nary a tenth of a second to react, one of the Shaad's flickered, a sign the pirate was focusing on his real attack. Valentino whipped his hands around, knocking the blades aside. As he did that, Shaad sped in from behind, Tairyoku again in hand. Valentino was a step too slow. Spinning around, Shaad's blade sliced across his nose and cheeks, leaving a shallow but lasting cut on the Noble's perfectly sculpted face. Shaad was repayed with a booming uppercut that left him frozen in midair.

His feet holding shakily beneath him, Shaad looked up into the focused eyes staring daggers down on him. "Not yet," he protested with gritted teeth. "Ultimate. . . Burst. . ."


	41. Flickering Flame

**From Blaze to Flicker**

With his new acquaintance about to be killed down below, Isaac was frozen, not by fear or shock, but an eerie feeling. K'ron's mocking smirk remained plastered on his face, the worry of further burns erased with the appearance of a sudden downpour even as fists continued to rain down, just narrowly missing their target. But, Isaac noticed an outlier, completely foreign to what was going on; there was a steadily increasing breeze nearing them that didn't match the pattern of the storm at all. Since K'ron somehow seemed to be doing okay given the bleak conditions, and Shin was apparently too lost in his own frustration to aim for K'ron's immobile body, Isaac chose to remain where he was in order to analyze the situation further.

Shin couldn't understand, but as seconds ticked by with K'ron still alive he cared to less and less, the simple thought of beating that toothy grin off the brat's face the prevailing thought in his head as rage quashed rational thought.

K'ron had been beaten so severely he could no longer make quick or large movements and he had been on the verge of unconsciousness for almost five minutes now, fighting his body's pleas to rest every step of the way. With all of that in mind, this fight between the pirate captain Shin and himself had long since been decided even as he remained on the wrong end of a vicious assault, but, still, he was the one smiling. And that went a long way towards him being in control at this most critical juncture. Shin's fists hadn't been heated or burning since the rain first started falling right as the first punch from the mounted position was thrown and the repeat punches had also ceased, making dodging the now figurative firestorm with minimal movements much easier.

Under the cover of darkness, unbeknownst to the three at the pirates' base, a small army, no less than 100 people, had marched through the forest directly to their location. The squadron, equipped with all manner of weapons, moved in perfect formation and with purpose, not once breaking line behind the unarmed leader and the two men flanking just behind, wielding a spike tipped chain and twin brass knuckle equipped daggers, respectively.

Along with the appearance of this new group, the source of the breeze that Isaac could not previously ascertain also became clearer, clear enough that the other two would've noticed as well were they not so preoccupied and it not partially concealed by the still raging storm. Having finally discerned the flow of this outlier, Isaac was able to pinpoint the apparent cause: a stream of lights, like fireflies in the distance.

With an unseen hand gesture from the encroaching squadron's leader, the clump of lights expanded and spread over a stretch of the blaze leading from the fort's entranceway to the ring where Shin and K'ron were engaged. The firefly-like lights then slowly descended, smothering the flame below it as it went. Isaac couldn't believe his eyes as a large portion of the inferno gradually dwindled to nothing, especially considering the torrential downpour only seemed to keep it from growing and expanding further.

With a length of the blaze now extinguished, the mysterious lights spread outwards and held the rest of the fire at bay, preventing the cleared space from being reclaimed. What remained was a path of scorched, barren earth cluttered with smoldering bone fragments of the fallen and the charred bits of once impressive wooden structures. Even with a path cleared, the gate was still closed, chained shut, and reinforced with a steel wall, it wouldn't be easy to break through.

Isaac shifted his attention from the dry, wasteland like path and looked at the men gathered outside the fort's front gate, focusing primarily on who could possess the ability to clear an inferno so effortlessly. He instantly recognized the man dressed in a Marine uniform at the head, causing a cataclysm of emotions to collide within him. Anger, fear, confusion, hatred, and bewilderment all fought for dominance as the young man refused to avert his gaze from the threatening figure as he remained perched in his position on top of the fort walls, momentarily frozen even more so than before.

The securely locked steel gate served only a minor obstacle for the group's commander. Without batting an eyelash at the towering entranceway, he slipped off the elbow length glove on his right hand, revealing an almost entirely mechanical forearm. The cybernetic attachment was covered in a liquid that immediately set ablaze upon encountering open air, but just as quickly, more of the mysterious lights at his command tempered the flame, compressing it into a focused aura of extreme heat around the specially made limb attachment. Simply pressing two fingers against the doors was enough to easily melt the thick steel where he touched on his way to carving out a hole large enough for him to walk through. Standing in the middle of the newly created hole, the commander used his superheated hand to melt away the edges, liquefying the solid steel with a tight grip and pushing the edges out until the opening was large enough for three average sized men to walk in side by side.

The powerful commander confidently strode into the base walls, followed first by his two vice commanders and then the hundred or so other men under his command, all in perfect formation. He smiled unflinchingly as he returned the vicious glare coming from Shin, tightly clenched fists dripping blood not his own and chest rising with each heavy breath as he stood triumphantly over the unconscious body of a thoroughly beaten K'ron.

The leader's smile only broadened when the fierce pirate captain took a threatening step forward, punching the heated metal slab between them from the ring with such force that it hurtled towards the group with frightening speed and deadly accuracy. Showing off his reflexes, the man to the captain's left jumped forward and met the projectile with a powerful double fisted punch from his brass knuckle covered fists with enough brute strength behind them to not only stop the hot steel in its tracks but to also send a devastating gust of wind slicing a swath through the fire and leaving two matching lines imprinted in the steel on the far side of the base.

The group's head then placed a calming hand on his subordinate's shoulder and stepped forward, holding out his mechanical hand toward the ruthless pirate still shooting a glare over to him that would kill were it possible.

"Shin 'Twin Pistons' Tensan," the commander spoke, his gruff voice offputtingly casual given the circumstances, "would I be right in assuming this little trap was meant for me?"

Shin then made as if to jump at him, so he continued in a more serious yet condescending tone.

"Calm down, little Shin Shin. Do you really think you could make be break a sweat under these conditions? Pirates can never be trusted, so I did my research on you. Your epithet comes from the powers granted you by the Devil Fruit you ate which allows your muscles to act as pistons, pushing force forward without any extra motion. That can make it seem like your opponents have been hit by multiple punches even though you only threw one. Furthermore, if you pump them fast enough, the friction will cause your body to heat up, maybe even spark a fire. How you're able to withstand that, even I haven't figured out.

"So, what if you know that; that doesn't mean you can stop me," Shin snapped, stepping over Kron's body and approaching the marine.

"I haven't finished. With this rainfall, your pistons become less effective and are liable to backfire, possibly even explode. The fact that you ever thought you stood a chance, shows you know nothing of my power. I can use these lights I release to manipulate oxygen. Do you know what that means? I can disperse the oxygen needed for fire or even the air you're breathing. And, with the oxygen condensed, this right hand of mine is no less than 3,500° Fahrenheit. It'll melt metal effortlessly. What do you think it would do to you?"

Shin's anger and killing intent were overflowing, but there was nothing he could do. He had planned to trap and kill this man at their scheduled meeting in three days, and then attack the rest of them before catching up with his commanders later in the Grand Line. However, those long laid plans, much like his base on this island, were completely up in smoke.

"Why are you even here," Shin finally spoke. "Our meeting wasn't for a few more days."

"We received several reports of thick clouds of smoke billowing from the center of this island. As Marines, it's our duty to investigate and resolve any potentially dangerous situations."

Shin growled in deep frustration, the sound pushing through his throat with the guttural intensity of an overheated engine about to explode. He had been utterly defeated, and it was all thanks to two little gnats that flew in. That he even lost the element of surprise and had expended so much energy was the insult on top of injury. There was absolutely nothing he could do to change the situation except get rid of the maggot that caused all these problems. With that thought in mind he pumped his muscles once more, re-igniting his fist before thrusting it towards the unconscious K'ron's head.

" **Heated Mountain... Crusher!"**

Shin's muscles pistoned so much the sound was nearly audible as his fist steadily drew nearer to its target. Nothing but mere inches and thick ash filled air remained between him and his target. He would splatter this child's head like a ripe watermelon, and though it wouldn't solve anything, it would provide some semblance of satisfaction.

Isaac, pushed over the edge by the Marine commander's nonchalant tone and blasé attitude, pushed himself into action, rocketing from his perch with such force that the foothold he'd been using was completely destroyed. But, no matter how fast he went, there was no way his fist would reach Shin before Shin's fist killed K'ron. For the second time, he would watch helplessly as someone was killed before his very eyes, all due to his own cowardice.

Isaac ground his teeth together, attempting to will himself to go faster, but it was all futile. He watched as an explosion engulfed K'ron's head at point blank range. The force shoved K'ron's head further into the ground, splintering it with shrapnel and enough concussive pressure to crush his skull, but somehow the young pirate remained alive (to be generous), though on the verge of death. Shin's arm muscles had malfunctioned due to the rust caused by the rain, and at the last possible moment, it triggered an explosion, bursting the fierce fighter's arm and gauntlet from the inside out. Pieces of metal jutted from K'ron's skin as he bled even more heavily than before while the blast also knocked Shin back into the air, right towards Isaac.

Isaac cocked his arm all the way back, and threw a punch filled with the entirety of his tumultuous emotions, letting it loose on Shin's jaw and using the force to spin his body into a perfect landing between K'ron and the Marines.

Shin was thrown into one of the heated steel ring walls, tearing through it and falling into the trench below. His jaw had been completely shattered by the force of Isaac's punch, and the sudden two-fold pain from the explosion and the unexpected attack from behind was enough to knock the powerful foe unconscious.

Isaac desperately wanted to help K'ron, but the enemy in front of him took precedent. If he couldn't get through these Marines, both he and K'ron would surely be dead. He could only hope that K'ron's condition, though critical, was stable enough to last a bit longer. A new fire burned in Isaac's eyes as he gazed upon the Marine leader, something more than revenge fueled him now. Brimming with unexplainable passion and a mixture of other emotions, Isaac gripped the claymore, still stuck in the ground beside him and still as solid as before, and leveled the point at his next target. The searing pain of the burning metal in his palm didn't seem to register as he trained his complete focus on the task at hand.

"You killed my father. I won't let do as you please any longer."

The Marine leader leveled an even stare at Isaac. Though a large sword pointed at him, he seemed more amused than threatened, merely smirking at Isaac's iron resolve. His top two men weren't nearly so easy going, though, returning Isaac's glare with almost equal ferocity.

It was the one to the leader's right that acted first this time, stepping forward with the utmost confidence as he readied his chain for a fight. However, he was stopped by the commander's arm in front of him.

"No, I'll handle this," the commander smiled. "You must be the son of that traitor. I'd always held high hopes for your father, but he simply refused to bow to his superiors. It'll be interesting to see how well his son has matured. Who knows, maybe there's a spot for you among my most trusted men.

The commander's arms were held out wide, showcasing the troops he'd brought with him. Isaac knew time was of the essence for K'ron, but he couldn't just let that treacherous Marine spit on his father's reputation."

"My father stood up for the defenseless people with pride and earnest, and you stabbed him in the back you coward. You'll pay!"

"Is that right?"

There was no time to get into a back and forth. Isaac wanted to finish this as fast as possible to get help for K'ron. Even though that's what he constantly reminded himself, he knew as well as anybody that against 100 of the Marine base's top soldiers plus three of the top fighters in this part of the Grand Line, he stood no better a chance than a snowball in hell. However, pushing such thoughts aside, Isaac lunged in with reckless abandon, lashing out at the head Marine with a powerful slash from his claymore.

The commander no longer held an amused smirk as Isaac attacked, his expression now one of mild annoyance. And, as if swatting a fly away, he waved his right hand into the path between the sword and his head. Isaac's strike moved past the commander as if there had been no interference, going past his hand and head in a seamless motion. However, though the sword could withstand the high temperatures of the raging fires, against the extreme heat contained around the commander's mechanical arm, it was little more than a large toy. With almost no effort, he melted through the claymore's blade and knocked it aside like a fragile stick.

Isaac didn't let that slow him, though. As if he'd planned for the turn of events, the undaunted orphan threw what was left of the sword forward. The commander saw it clearly, waving his arm up and pushing the broken sword aside with an almost lazy backhand. The lackluster movements to deflect the feint, though, left the Marine wide open to Isaac's real attack, a hard straight aimed right for his chest.

" **Tekkai,** " the commander's voice boomed as he braced for Isaac's punch, his left arm acting on reflex alone. But, even with his Tekkai technique, Isaac's punch still sent him skidding on his heels and bruised his arm in the process. The commander shook his arm loose to relieve it of the numbing sensation running through it, and his eyes shone with a twinkle of intrigue.

"That was Shigan if I'm not mistaken, and with your entire fist no less," the Marine officer stated. "Looks like your old man taught you a few Rokushiki techniques before his untimely demise. Tell me, what else did he teach you?"

Isaac chose to do one better – show him – attacking again with a Shigan punch, but this time moving in with almost blinding speed as well. The commander met Isaac's fist with a Tekkai enhanced punch of his own, moving forward to counteract the punch before Isaac was completely ready. Neither fighter budged, but the ground beneath them began to quake and crack from the combined impact.

Isaac tried to catch the commander by surprise with a kick, but the wily Marine jumped up to avoid it. The look on his face implied he was a bit surprised that it was a normal kick. Performing a flip in the air, he brought his extended leg down for a devastating axe kick. Isaac quickly moved to the side to avoid the strike, attempting to move around and catch him off guard. The Marine, though, swung out with his cybernetic right hand, forcing Isaac to duck to keep from having his head lopped off. Isaac then jumped back with uncanny agility to avoid the follow up knife hand.

A simmering line was left in the ground where Isaac had been a moment before. Isaac needed to regroup, he'd almost forgotten about the lethality of that hand, and that wasn't a mistake he could afford to make. The commander, though, was clearly playing around, smiling as he melted and altered rocks with his bare hand.

"Shigan and Soru, but you don't know Rankyaku," the man mused. "Your dad seems to have only taught you the ones he excelled at. Stop this pointless floundering and I'll make you a Rokushiki user on par with the best of CP9. What do you say?"

Isaac moved even faster this time, momentarily disappearing from vision before reappearing in front of the commander, ready to throw an uppercut. Isaac left cracks in the ground as he launched himself upwards, putting all his weight behind the single punch. The entire sequence happened in the blink of an eye, making it near impossible to avoid. But, nevertheless, the Marine stopped the punch with his metal right hand, the heat controlled enough to not instantly turning Isaac's hand to ash, before countering with a solid knee to the aggressive youngster's chin, wracking Isaac's brain like a marble.

The young man was completely disoriented as an iron vise like grip lifted him off his feet. It was clear he'd been beaten as he regained his senses, and, as if by instinct, struggled for freedom. The first things he noticed were a smell reminiscent of gas and a liquid leaking onto his neck, though it didn't seem to hinder the hand constricting his windpipe in the least. He stopped wriggling and remained still when a searing pain burned the sides of his neck.

"I'd suggest you not move. Holding the flames and heat at bay is quite a delicate balance. And with the fuel already on your neck, even the oxygen in the air would be enough to spark a reaction. But, that was quite the maneuver, if I hadn't seen your dad use it countless times, you might've gotten me. Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the line. Any last words?"

Isaac gathered what strength he could and borrowed a page from K'ron's book, hocking a disgusting loogie in the commander's face. The Marine leader growled angrily, but controlled himself enough not to instantly snap the brash young man's neck.

"Go to hell, you evil bastard," Isaac spat.

"Evil? I'm a Marine, the symbol of good. No matter what I do, it's automatically considered good because I'm a Marine. Whether I make a deal with pirate scum or execute a rebellious subordinate, no one can touch me for I am the Marines and the Marines are righteous. Now why don't you contemplate that in the next life with your father?"

The way this man ground the ideals of the Marines, the ideals Isaac so believed in, beneath the heel of his boot reignited the fire in Isaac's belly, the youth lashing out with wild kicks, fighting to escape, consequences be damned.

"Hmph, incessant till the end just like your father. I think after I kill you, I'll slaughter your village. Even then, no one would bat an eye. A shining Marine example takes down an evil group of treacherous bandits that massacred a civilian town. Who knows, they might even reward me with a medal.

"No, I don't think so," a new voice opined. "Though, I will give you some seastone cuffs for your trouble, Commodore Bryn."

"Hu- **AAAH!** "

The base commander, Commodore Bryn, howled in agony at the pain of suddenly having his right arm cut off. It was cut with such speed and precision that the injury didn't immediately register, and even when it did, Isaac was already on the ground, the cybernetic forearm still tightly hanging on to his throat, keeping any oxygen from contacting the highly flammable fuel. Even now, Isaac dared not move, merely looking on at the situation with nervous apprehension.

Commodore Bryn's top two soldiers stepped in front of their commander with weapons readied while the other soldiers spread out in formation. The newcomer looked to each of them with a scrutinizing expression as if asking do you really want to do this. Many of them looked unsure, and almost half dropped their weapons when the man spoke.

"Commodore Bryn and all Marines of the G-25 base, you are hereby under arrest. Drop your weapons and surrender immediately! If you do not comply, I am authorized to use whatever means necessary to bring you in."

"Vice Admiral Lykos, what are you doing here," Bryn hissed, clutching the bleeding stump of his arm tightly.

"I came to investigate your base, but they told me you'd come to this island. Luckily, you're still so long winded that I made it in time to fully assess the situation."

Bryn nearly ground his teeth to nothing, but made no overt moves to resist the Vice Admiral while the rest of his men hesitated in deciding what to do without an order from the Commodore himself, instead all except for the Commodore's top men stood on shaky legs, looking at the Vice Admiral with nervous tension, almost completely oppressed by the Vice Admiral's overbearing aura. Even with the distance between the two sides, the infantrymen still felt overwhelmed as if in the presence of a giant instead of the average sized Lykos.

The Vice Admiral stood stoically under the pelting rain, neck length golden blonde hair fluttering in the wind in rhythm with the gold epaulets of the Marine coat draped on his shoulders. His arms crossed over his broad chest and billowing coat on his wide shoulders exposed the gold embroidered scabbard at his hip. Lykos' brow furrowed, gaze narrowing, as he eyed each of the hesitant crowd around him. The whole situation ate away at Lykos' limited patience with each empty breath, and it wasn't long before he partially drew his sword, the blade gleaming so brightly it was as if it cut through the night sky itself.

"If I must fully draw my sword, none of you will _walk_ onto my ship. Is that understood?"


	42. King of the Hill

**King of the Hill:**

 **The More You Know**

"Coming to my room at this hour? What will people think?"

Shaad paid Raine's provocations no mind as he slid past her into the room, and Raine immediately realized the seriousness of the situation as he didn't so much as bat an eyelash at her greeting him in nothing but a pair of pink panties.

"What's going on?"

"What do you know about a Valentino Rozzeg?"

Raine searched her memory while Shaad waited pensively in the silence.

"Rozzeg sounds familiar, but I can't be sure. Why?"

"He could be trouble."

"How much trouble?"

"Depends on who he is, but I'm guessing a lot."

Raine, having put on a shirt, heaved a sigh and took a seat on the bed, pulling Shaad down next to her. "I know someone who might be able to tell us something, but first, break it down for me."

Shaad told her everything from when he first came across Lord Braddock to how he got on the ship to the current moment. Raine listened in silence as he went into detail most would have overlooked while Vega, dressed in a stolen crewman's uniform kept watch outside the door, so still he could've been mistaken for an extremely lifelike statue. As Shaad got deeper into the weeds of his story, Raine still had no grasp of the urgent matter that had him frantic at her door in the middle of the night. So, he got dragged into a fight he should've done everything he could to avoid. It sounded like this Braddock fellow didn't get out much, and wasn't all that well known this far out. He was likely a minor noble, haughty from being a big fish in a small pond.

Raine was tired and growing impatient when Shaad dropped the bombshell. "He knows who I am."

Shock flashed over Raine's face before the navigator could adopt the mask of calm she'd worn so many times before.

"Even if he did connect you to your bounty poster, he'd be hard-pressed to convince anyone else, especially after vouching for you keeping your swords," Raine stated, trying to think positively.

But, her words did nothing to soothe Shaad. "He didn't say anything about my bounty. He knew my name. . . my real name."

The way Shaad said that raised questions for Raine, but she didn't dare voice them, not right now. "Okay, that does sound bad," Raine conceded, "but, maybe you're being a bit dramatic. According to your story you should be suffering from debilitating injuries throughout your body right now."

Shaad looked over himself, flexing his fingers and muscles as he took a few deep breaths. "I'm not exaggerating or anything, but you're right. I shouldn't be able to move right now. . . It may have something to do with what he poured into my mouth."

Raine's eyes went wide at that revelation. "What was it? What did he give you?" There was an urgency in her voice that took Shaad aback.

"Uh. . . Essence of Might or something. I don't really remember."

"Essence of Night?"

"Sure, that sounds right. Why?"

"Essence of Night was outlawed almost a century ago. It's a high-grade poison and a miracle drug." Shaad's obvious confusion came across unbidden. "It's said Essence of Night can almost instantly cure or heal any ailment and injury, but it only has a two percent success rate. 98% of people who take it die within 48 hours."

"S~o-," Shaad let the word hang in the air, an inkling of fear for his own life creeping into his mind.

"How do you feel?"

"Well, confronted with my own mortality, not great," Shaad answered, his tone that of a melancholic joke.

"No, I mean physically. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine, great in fact. I think that's what's getting me more than anything; right now, I feel better and more energized than I have in a while. Is that bad?"

"I don't know," Raine answered honestly, concern showing on her face. "I've only ever heard of Essence of Night through rumors and stories; your health could conceivably take a sudden turn in the next couple of days. Above all, I'd suggest you not put any unnecessary stress or strain on your body."

"Aah," Shaad faux groaned, "I was gonna go back and demand a rematch." The two shared a soft smile as Shaad lay back on the bed. "Thanks, Doc," he playfully muttered as he fell into a state of reverie, more worn out by the day's events than he'd realized. Instead of griping or playing with him, Raine, after a quick word with Vega, merely adjusted his positioning on the bed and lay down next to him, her head nestled comfortably over his steady beating heart.

* * *

Stress wasn't something Shaad was used to, and he didn't like it. He found himself pacing aimlessly a lot, worrying about Valentino and imagining phantom pains in his chest that would invariably cause him to panic a little.

"Calm down, will ya? It's been three days." Raine's voice caused Shaad to jump imperceptibly.

"Easy for you to say; it's not your life."

Raine could only sigh at Shaad's whining. "I've never known you to be such a baby about death."

"I have no qualms with being killed. I've been prepared, and halfway expected, to die cause of my own weakness since I was a child. But, this is poison. Strong, weak, any man can die from poison, and it's not exactly famous for going along with expectations."

"That's part of what I came over here to talk to you about. You'd be amazed at the type of information available to a noble when they have an interest in science. Apparently, only one person's ever died outside that 48-hour window, and the C.O.D. there was strangulation at 52 hours. Other than that, prevailing thought is that it cuts ten years off the lifespan. But, you're out of the woods. So, better now?"

"I'll be better when I'm off this ship," Shaad grumbled.

"That brings me to my second bit of information," Raine declared, a creeping smirk playing across her face. "And, it's good."

"Good for us," Shaad asked skeptically.

"No, no," Raine answered, waving away her captain's concerns like an annoying fly. "Good in general."

". . . And?" Shaad grew anxious, anticipatory, as Raine casts furtive glances around the room, not saying a word.

"Not here. Follow me."

"Oh; what will people think seeing us dip out together like this," Shaad teased.

"Do you wanna know what I found out or not?"

"Lead the way."

"This'll do," Raine declared, having led Shaad away from the crowded deck, down a flight of stairs and into a restricted, ship officers only, area of the massive vessel. "Vega, keep an eye out here," she commanded the masked man before going deeper down a hallway, and taking another flight of stairs down to a hidden area of the ship.

Confirming the order with a nod, Shaad followed his navigator, noticing how nondescript the doors in this area looked as well as the chipped edges on the lock of the slick portal blocking entrance to this latest stairwell.

"Where are we," Shaad asked, unable to see anything in the darkness with the door and cover closed.

Raine didn't answer, instead twisting a lever and letting a series of torches bathe the room in a warming glow. The room was massive and sparse, but somehow still felt stuffy to Shaad as he eyed the imposing metal vault cover dominating the south wall. "Can you open it," were the only words Raine said as Shaad was caught in a state of shock and awe.

Placing a palm on the imposing structure, Shaad closed his eyes and ran his hand softly along the cold, unnatural alloy. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

"So, can you?"

Shaad opened his eyes, craning his neck upwards to fully take in the sheer scale. Hearing Raine agitatedly clear her throat, he shook his mind clear. "No."

The answer was simple, but still left Raine in shock, mouth agape.

"Now, what about Valentino Rozzeg?"

". . . Hah. I don't think you understand how this works. I'm the brains of this outfit, you're the face and muscle."

"I thought Vega was the muscle," Shaad cut Raine off.

"You both are," she responded a bit flustered. "But, -"

"But, nothing. I'll do what I can when the time comes, but, for now, tell me what you found out about Valentino Rozzeg." Shaad leveled his stare at Raine, arms crossed over his chest. She'd made such a big deal over the information, and he was tiring of her diversions; the situation with Valentino was far more pressing.

"He's apparently a noble." Shaad merely nodded, he'd presumed that. Raine also understood that was the most basic thing she could've announced, so she continued. "However, not just any noble. How much about history do you know?"

"A working knowledge. Just say what you gon' say."

Rozzeg is the name of one of the five original Noble houses, one of the five founding members of the World Government. . . Valentino Rozzeg is a direct descendant of. . ."

". . . to a member of the Gorosei," Shaad finished, the full weight of just who he'd been dealing with crashing down on him. The already stuffy room suddenly felt downright suffocating.

"Relax a little. Valentino's said to be an outlier as far as temperament. Hadn't you wondered why people haven't essentially spent the entire time bowing in reverence despite a Celestial Dragon onboard?"

"Because that'd be a boring trip?"

"No, it's because Valentino's a second son - meaning he's not likely to become a Gorosei at any point - and he hates the formalities. Most people don't even know who he really is, but he's garnered a high value reputation even among those who don't know his lineage."

"If most people don't know the truth then who was able to tell you all this," Shaad questioned.

"Why? Are you jealous of whoever's been in my ear," Raine joked with her captain and constant plaything.

Shaad was in no mood, though, his mouth twisting to the side as his unwavering stare demanded she answer the question. "How do you know we can trust the information?"

"I don't, obviously. It came from a guy named Eric; we met on Gold Peak. Or, I should say, I met him on Gold Peak; he thinks I'm someone else. He hasn't crossed me yet is all I can say for sure."

"Why would he think you're someone else?" The look Raine gave him told Shaad the question was rhetorical, or he was crazy to expect an actual answer.

"Who does he think you are," Shaad more accurately asked.

"Some Lady DeWynter."

"Lady Dewyn- Lady of Win-," Shaad's eyes went wide before a light blush colored his brown skin and he closed his gawking maw, looking like a kid who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You've heard of her? Who is she?"

"'The Lady of Night' Lady DeWynter. Everybody who's anybody in the world has heard her name."

Raine bristled at the unintended shade, asking, "Then how do you know of her," with a raised eyebrow.

"My parents are somebody," Shaad answered flatly, stopping himself from saying something further.

"What," Raine inquired upon catching Shaad holding back something else. "What are you hiding?"

Raine fixed Shaad with a stern glare, cutting off his response before he could even choke out some made up tale. "Lady DeWynter is. . . the reigning Queen of Pleasure. . . She heads the Pleasure Quarter in the New World," Shaad announced with downcast eyes.

". . . So, she's a madam," Raine uttered half-heartedly upon regaining her voice.

"That's an oversimplification."

"But yes?"

Shaad nodded. "Are you sure he actually thinks you're her. He could be playing you. I mean, Lady DeWynter is regarded as an unmatched beauty."

Insult and anger flashed over Raine's porcelain features. "I'm going to be nice and ignore that," she stated, though the twitch of her eyebrow said differently. "Even if Eric was playing me, everyone else's actions and reactions are genuine."

That's probably because next to nobody knows who she actually is. If not for her agents, she'd be considered a tall tale."

"Eric has remarked on a few ways I've apparently acted different than in the past. . . Okay, say he is playing me. Why?"

"I don't know. It could be to use contact with the infamous Lady DeWynter as leverage in negotiations. There's no one who doesn't want to be on her good side; even my Uncle Black pays tribute to her in order to run girls in the New World."

The two mulled over the new information they'd each just learned in silence. Looking back to one another, they shared a knowing nod. "We better be going."

"Be careful." Raine just smiled before she turned her back and walked out. "Vega, on me." Shaad stood staring up at the massive vault in silence as Vega swiftly appeared behind him.

The cruise continued on startlingly uneventful. Shaad made the ill-advised decision to borrow 50 thousand beli from Raine, promptly losing the entirety on a Hold 'em table where that amount barely covered the minimum bet, leaving him 150 thousand deeper in the hole with Raine. With Raine, the social butterfly she is, occupied flitting around the ship and the reputation of Arturio Braddock as immature and irrelevant preceding him, Shaad was left largely as an outsider to the high-born crowd. That was fine by him; it meant he didn't have to read through all the double talk, hidden meanings, and false pleasantries.

This cesspool of a ship was filled with the worst criminals; scheming, cheating, and back-biting the dominant language of communication. It was the kind of stuff his dad greatly enjoyed, and was perfect for him because, when done right, he wouldn't have to lift a finger to gain everything. That appealed to the dominant trait of his attitude, but went against his personality. In spite of everything, Shaad was a rather straight forward person. Sure, he never told his thoughts on anything, but it was usually clear how he felt.

The fact that they so blatantly disregarded him, only made things easier for him. Nobles too conceited to care, Shaad could satellite almost any conversation without anyone so much as batting an eye. And, when that inevitably got boring, he'd go somewhere quiet and meditate. After all, he'd need his strength for what came next.


	43. A New Direction

**A New Direction**

"If I must fully draw my sword, none of you will walk onto my ship. Is that understood?"

Lykos' declaration had all but Bryn's right-hand men and a handful of other subordinates dropping their weapons in surrender, but even those who resisted took a step back at the intonation and authority of the Vice Admiral's voice as well as the confidence that he could, and would, easily back it up.

Bryn himself remained silent and motionless, never allowing his gaze to drift from the imposing Vice Admiral whose sights were squarely trained on him. Sweat beaded on the Commodore's brow as Vice Admiral Lykos absorbed his attention and the full gravity of his circumstances weighed heavily on his shoulders, drawing his focus away from the slowed bleeding of his missing arm. Before he completely succumbed to the insane pressure generated by the majestically grandiose officer, Bryn collected himself enough to give a surprising announcement.

"Jax, Dax, and the rest of you, thank you, but it's time to end this. Drop your weapons! . . Lykos, let them go, please. They're good marines; they were only following my orders."

"Squad 5, establish a perimeter. Squad 1, detain and escort Commodore Bryn. Squads 2 and 3, subdue the Twin Commanders, Lt. Commanders Jax and Dax. Squad 4, gather pirate captain Shin Tensan and carry him to the ship," Lykos barked orders. "You'll all be coming with me to stand trial for your actions."

Once orders were issued and the different squads set out to complete their tasks, Vice Admiral Lykos, moving for the first time since making his presence known, supported by a personal squad of elites, made his way to a stammering and nervous Isaac, whose throat was still firmly in the grasp of Bryn's dismembered hand. On the way over, one of his men picked up Commodore Bryn's glove and handed it to the Vice Admiral.

Lykos knelt before the young man with the glove inside out on his right hand, and positioned his left hand on the special metal limb with the gloved right hand just beneath it.

Isaac was visibly nervous as the marine prepared to remove the hand and tried to warn the officer of the dangers. However, Lykos seemed to ignore him as he took a deep breath in and yanked the hand off. Isaac's heart skipped a beat and his voice left his throat as his whole world slowed down. He was sure he'd already died when he felt an even tighter grip around his throat, announcing to him that he was in fact still alive as he struggled to get clean, fresh air to his lungs. Using the airtight material of the glove, Vice Admiral Lykos wiped the highly flammable liquid from Isaac's skin before any air could get through and rose to get medical attention for K'ron.

Isaac unsure of how well known a pirate K'ron was rushed to his side before Lykos could really approach, and volunteered to take responsibility for the unconscious young man's health. Accepting that as his decision, Lykos ordered his men to move out and he brought up the rear as a small detachment went to retrieve the Commodore's ship, leaving Isaac and K'ron on their own.

"Hey... HEY! Come on, speak to me! You baka; you better not die on me! Say something you shithead.

In his panicked state, Isaac violently shook K'ron while screaming at the top of his lungs, a small reservoir of tears beginning to well up in his eyes. Even in his mild hysteria, he was careful not to say K'ron's name in the presence of the Marines. After a few tense seconds of silence, K'ron's pained voice sounded in his ears breaking through the distress he felt and loosing the gathered tears in slow streams down each cheek.

"Sto- sto~op sha~aking me... I'm a-live; I can't die. I'm going to be- sssh, a-aah, oww- Pi~rate King.

Isaac's tears immediately ceased, and his mouth dropped open, face frozen in a look of complete shock as his brain tried, mostly in vain, to process and make sense of K'ron's words, in a way that they weren't completely suicidal for the two of them. Isaac stayed stock still, hoping against hope that Vice Admiral Lykos hadn't heard that last outburst. His prayers were simultaneously dashed and answered as the Vice Admiral muttered something from behind him.

"Fools like that don't live long."

Isaac could hear the Vice Admiral's footsteps getting farther away, and waited until he was sure they weren't in any immediate danger to hoist up his new friend, placing an arm over his shoulders and leaning K'ron's weight against him.

The two slowly began to make their way out of the encampment, Isaac mostly dragging the barely conscious K'ron. Crossing by the Marines' path, Lykos called out to the pair, warning them.

"You two were lucky today; you could have died. Now, you should be thankful that I have more important matters to attend to."

Isaac didn't take very well to the Vice Admiral's haughty tone and nearly dropped K'ron in his haste, a precursor to a far more dangerous action.

"You're looking down on me. I'll teach you to make light of me."

"Do you wish to test your luck again, boy?"

Isaac glared heatedly at the powerful man, barely able to contain his pride induced anger, but just as he was about to make a step to engage the much more powerful foe, he felt a strong grip clenching his shoulder, bringing a grimace to his rage locked features before he succumbed to the will of his injured compatriot and backed down from the sly grin challenging him to move forward.

It took some time in their condition, but the duo eventually made it to K'ron's boat docked at the coast, a small, but sturdily made single sailed ship. The first thing Isaac did with K'ron's pirate flag in view was toss K'ron's limp body into the ocean, making sure to get the young pirate past the shallow bank, earning him a yelp as loud as K'ron could manage through the agonizing pain it caused. After that K'ron managed to muster up enough strength and stamina to just briefly verbally berate the plum stupidity of Isaac's action once Isaac lifted him from the water.

"What the hell are you doing, baka?"

"You're suffering from first to third degree burns. The cool ocean water will help ease the heat," Isaac explained.

K'ron's jaw dropped at the childish naivety of that response, but Isaac's additional statement made the real reason understandable.

"And, that's the least you deserve for almost getting us both killed back there."

"Me? You're the one who wouldn't back down from that Vice Admiral or whatever."

Isaac stared at K'ron a moment, his face expressionless as he spoke. "Do you need another dip in the water to cool your temper?"

"AUUGH! Alright, alright. I have burn ointment and medical wraps on the boat just put some of that on my wounds, and then use ice periodically to take down the swelling," K'ron griped instructions to his new partner.

And, from there, the two ended up in their current predicament, Isaac in K'ron's small pirate boat with a human shaped arrangement of bandages lying motionless next to him. He'd barely slept a wink worrying about the various risks and problems. On a calm stretch of open sea, with waves gently rocking the sailboat back and forth, Isaac's eyelids felt heavy as a calming breeze flowed over him and he briefly resigned himself to the embrace of sleep.

Isaac was roused from his slumber by a slight jostling. He hurriedly woke up, scolding himself for falling asleep in the first place, and looked to the other end of the boat to see K'ron, still looking like a life sized bandaged teddy bear, lying perfectly still, presumably unconscious. Isaac then glanced at the sky, noting the movement of the clouds, the change in wind currents, and the increased swaying of the ship. He was quickly able to piece together the inevitability of a storm, and jumped to the sail in time with a powerful wind veering the boat drastically off course. Isaac caught the rigging and tried desperately to restore the course, but found it difficult to simultaneously fight the strong gales and keep track of direction in the dimming daylight without the sun or stars for aid. He pulled the ropes taut as the crashing waves pelted against him, tossing the small vessel along. With deft maneuvering of the sail's rigging, he just barely managed to direct them against a rogue wave that threatened to crush the single sail ship. He glided through the wave, the inside of the boat getting doused in the process, and broke through to the center of the storm.

This only gave him a brief respite, but it was enough time for Isaac to orientate himself in the fierce weather and prepare for the next stage. It took almost an hour, his focus and intensity never allowed to wane in the slightest, but he got them out of the storm mostly unscathed, his body exhausted and beaten by the crashing waves as his muscles burned fiercely from strain. Panting heavily, he fell to the deck, sprawled and spread eagle, just looking blankly at the night sky before K'ron's snoring entered his ears, frustrating him greatly.

"How can you sleep through all that," Isaac growled, bringing his heel crashing down on the chest area of K'ron's full body cast/ bandages, caving in a sizable portion and sending cracks through the immediate surrounding area of the wrappings, before letting his head fall to the deck with a thud as he himself immediately fell into a deep sleep.

 _Nggh._ K'ron slowly regained consciousness within the confines of the thick bandage wrappings. Every time he shifted, the bandages, stiff after being soaked in seawater, broke apart bit by bit until he had gained enough freedom to flex and release his arms. K'ron then removed the remnants from his arms and ripped the broken shell off his torso before hammering apart the portion around his legs, kicking it all overboard and disregarding it.

"How can he be sleeping at a time like this," the teen grumbled, looking at Isaac snoozing contentedly.

K'ron muttered a bit to himself as he got up to stretch and fully unfurl the sail. Letting the wind carry them, he picked up a large pair of dumbbells and thought back over his most recent fight and defeat as he went through a light workout. Power, experience, and even endurance; K'ron had been completely outclassed by Shin for the entirety of their conflict. K'ron didn't often lose brawls and he'd never been toyed with like that before.

Because of his slugfest style of fighting, K'ron's toughest fights usually came against those that held a significant size and strength advantage, so it was imperative that he get stronger in order to be ready for what would surely come down the line. K'ron's body, still not completely recovered from his injuries, burned as his workout neared four hours, but, also due to his preferred brand of fighting, he possessed a great level of physical endurance and reveled in pushing his body's limits. It was for that reason that he couldn't help but bear an animalistic grin thinking about the total defeat he'd suffered as well as the myriad of even stronger fighters he'd no doubt come across as his journey continued. The thought alone got his blood boiling and he nearly broke the weights' handles as his grip unconsciously tightened.

His growling stomach broke K'ron from his reverie and he dropped the damaged dumbells and searched his stores for food before remembering that he ran out of food long before he docked at Isaac's home island.

The noise K'ron had unknowingly made in his search stirred Isaac, who briefly awoke to question whether they were still on the right course. K'ron answered yes and Isaac tiredly drifted back to sleep. K'ron continued to think about what to do about food when a great idea struck him. He looked at Isaac with hungry eyes, slowly, cautiously approaching the slumbering youth. With hands mischievously wringing together unconsciously, K'ron moved silently as he tied Isaac up with rope and bandages, covering the bandages in an ointment that would cause them to tighten yet remain flexible when contacted by liquid. In absence of more formal bait, K'ron figured the best plan would be to use Isaac, with a rope tied around his waist and a gag in his mouth, to catch some large prey.

'If I'm lucky, maybe I'll catch a Sea King.'

Less than a minute after Isaac had broached the water, K'ron felt a commotion from the other end of the rope, and with a glee filled grin, he wrapped the rope around his forearm and pulled hard, raising his 'catch' out of the water. But, much to the pirate's disappointment, it was only Isaac, violently hacking up seawater attempting to get air into his lungs, and an average sized bass taking a bite out of the fleshy part of Isaac's butt.

Once he was finally able to breathe again, Isaac went off on K'ron, yelling and cursing the black haired young man with venomous resolve. He berated the young man at the top of his lungs, calling him every name he could think of, seemingly particularly fond of _shit-for-brains_ , but K'ron simply kept a sour expression while looking at the sight.

K'ron tossed Isaac behind, yanking the fish from his bum, and continued to gaze at the fish with an annoyed expression before ultimately turning back to Isaac.

"Should we try again?"

Isaac erupted in another fit of rage, his voice booming enough to blast the fish from K'ron's three finger grip. Having not eaten and barely slept in three days, Isaac's temper faded soon after K'ron cut him free, opting for rest over rash action which would only exacerbate his current issues.

"Hey, baka, keep an eye on our course, and if you try that stupid stunt again, I will strangle you with your own intestines and drown you in your bladder.

With Isaac once again asleep, K'ron looked upon him with mischievous intentions, contemplating whether to attempt using him as a bait again after losing his first catch, but even sleeping, Isaac appeared to be keeping an eye on K'ron at all times.

K'ron resigned himself to their current predicament and laid back in the growing breeze, visualizing various fight scenarios in his mind and thinking up effective moves and strategies for future reference, coming up with a handful of techniques that he took note to practice in earnest when he next had the opportunity.

After hours of silence, Isaac awoke with a start, breathing heavily once his eyes flashed open. For a minute, he simply stared blankly at the dawn of the morning sunrise, calming his breath and aligning his thoughts.

K'ron was also awoken by the slight rocking Isaac's sudden jolt caused and the daybreak sun beaming down on his face. Tiredly rubbing his eyes, he turned to his companion with half lidded eyes.

"What's with the commotion?"

"Why were you sleep? You should have been keeping watch."

"Oh, shut up. We're fine, aren't we?"

"Whatever; are we at least still on course?"

"Yeah, yeah," K'ron waved away Isaac's worries.

K'ron's quick and nonchalant answer did little to ease Isaac's piqued nerves and instead did the opposite. As the gears of his mind turned and the pieces fell in place, Isaac realized why the answer seemed so off; the sun wasn't on the right side. For an expert at reading the stars, the sun, and the clouds such as Isaac, using all of that to maintain a single direction was child's play, and right now, he knew they weren't going in the right direction, so he asked again, much more forcefully this time, but implicitly already knowing the answer.

"Are we still going the right way?"

"I said yeah! Why do you keep asking that same, stupid question? We're going where the wind takes us; of course, we're going the right way."

"WHAT!?" Isaac's face was a mixture of shock and rage. Overwhelmed by emotion at K'ron's blatant idiocy, Isaac lunged at the recovering young man. The boat rocked mightily with the ensuing tussle. Isaac locked his hands around K'ron's throat, but K'ron countered with heavy shots to his head. K'ron freed himself from Isaac's grip with a thunderous double fist to both ears, disorienting Isaac.

The two recovered simultaneously at opposite ends of the boat, but K'ron settled first, moving to tackle Isaac to the deck. Isaac, though, intercepted him with a knee, sending him careening to the edge where his head slammed into the wood. While K'ron was still dazed, Isaac lifted him up by the throat and slammed him into the single mast, forcing the air from his lungs. K'ron fought for freedom, but Isaac possessed a look he had never seen in their short time together and it was reflected in his strength as K'ron couldn't budge the arm holding him up or land a blow past the defense provided by the off-hand. Gripping tightly onto Isaac's forearm with both hands, K'ron lifted his legs up and kicked Isaac in the chest as hard as he could.

The move caught Isaac by surprise, and K'ron used the opportunity to grab hold of his head and deliver a crushing knee to his abdomen. Isaac's grip slackened enough that a quick elbow to the joint of his arm, set K'ron loose. When Isaac attempted to regain the offensive with a high roundhouse kick, K'ron blocked it and delivered a strong punch to the center of his chest. The force sent Isaac flying straight back and over the boat's edge, crashing into the still waters with a splash.

Isaac immediately began swimming as hard as he could, not wanting to be caught in the waves or a current. Pulling himself from the water, K'ron's laughter filled his ears, but that took a backseat as he realized there was no waves nor any wind. The worst-case scenario immediately flashed into his mind, and once he'd gotten himself back inside the boat, Isaac began doing calculations to figure out how they got in this predicament. K'ron became alert as well when he saw the look of horror on Isaac's face, knowing this must be serious.

"Oh no... This must have happened when I fell out while taking care of your dumb ass," Isaac muttered as panic set in.

"Ha, then this is your fault."

"You baka, this is no time to worry about whose fault it is. We're stuck in the Calm Belt; we need to get out now."

K'ron pouted at Isaac's reaction, mumbling under his breath, "Says the person whose fault it is."

"Argh," Isaac growled. Even amid such a perilous situation, Isaac pounced at K'ron again. Before they engaged, though, the boat prematurely rocked, causing Isaac to stop immediately, but K'ron still clocked him with a hard, right straight across his jaw. Isaac glared fiercely at his companion, but did nothing more as the rumbling around them increased and a giant turquoise scaled Sea King with a mane of long white hair and a beak filled with razor like teeth emerged from the water.

Their boat was now stranded on top of the Sea King's head and both K'ron and Isaac gawked over the boat's side at the frightening creature, though with entirely different expressions: K'ron smiling broadly while Isaac looked about ready to shit himself.

"This is awesome. I bet this guy taste great"

"I knew getting involved with you was gonna get me killed."

K'ron jumped out of the small boat, directly onto the Sea King's head, the sight of grilled meat in his eyes. Isaac was in complete shock over K'ron's brash actions, but when K'ron lifted his fist and a heavy weight surrounded them, Isaac was quick to restrain him, holding both arms back while K'ron continued to struggle in order to attack the ferocious monster.

The Sea King seemed to remain ignorant of the struggle going atop its head, but when K'ron's heel dug into its skull, the Sea King roared loudly and violently bucked its head, sending both K'ron and Isaac, along with their boat, flying into the distance like three twinkling stars shooting out of sight.


End file.
